Newt Scamander and the Discovery of Self
by Celino
Summary: This story picks up right where the movie left off. Remember the wisp of Obscurus we saw after the battle in the subway? Credence is alive, and he's left America, hoping England will be kinder to him. Newt meets him on the ship and offers to help him. Meanwhile, Queenie tracks down Jacob in his new bakery, determined to help him remember magic, even if it means breaking the law.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: Hello everybody! Hopefully this gets posted, I've been having trouble with the site not letting me upload. I absolutely love 'Fantastic Beasts' and have a few ideas on what I hope will be in the next film, so I've started writing them down. Hope you like where I'm going with this, I always appreciate feedback._

~..~..~..~..

Newt stayed on the viewing deck of the ship, watching the Statue of Liberty slowly shrink as he moved farther and farther away from New York City.

He never would have guessed that the short time he'd spent in America would have changed him so much, but Newt knew, he was not the same wizard who had arrived in New York merely a week ago.

Sighing, Newt slowly turned to make his way below deck to find his cabin, hoping he'd be alone. He needed to check on his creatures regularly, and it was not easy, trying to ensure some muggle roommate would not spy him entering and exiting his case.

New York had certainly been a surprise, he thought as he moved slowly down the stairs. First Jacob, Newt hoped his friend had been able to get his bakery. Queenie, of course, knew he'd given him the silver occamy eggshells, and told him she'd let him know if she ever found out where it would be. Officially speaking, she wasn't allowed to go near Jacob, of course, but Queenie was determined. She was certain Jacob wasn't a threat to the wizard world, and she wanted to find him again. Newt hoped her endeavours would end well, and made sure to tell her of the different laws of wizarding and muggle relations in Britain.

Then there was Tina… Newt couldn't help but smile as he thought of the auror who has arrested him. Perhaps he even owed his niffler a 'thank you' for that, Newt considered, doing his best to avoid people jostling past him in the narrow corridors, some already looking sea sick as the floor rocked beneath them.

Tina was certainly one he would miss, Newt knew, and he hoped he hadn't been too forward, taking the liberty of tucking her hair behind her ear at the docks. But she did say she'd like to see him again, he reminded himself, remembering her radiant, tearful smile. That was a good sign, surely?

And then there'd been Credence. Newt felt grief fill his heart at the thought of the poor Second Salem boy. Raised by a cruel woman who beat him for having magic, he'd become an obscurial. The most powerful one Newt had ever heard of. It hadn't been Credence's fault, any of it, and yet Madam Piquery had still ordered his death. She hadn't seen the boy who had been a victim of a loveless upbringing, only the Obscurus, which threatened the Statute of Secrecy, risking exposure. A threat that had to be stopped.

When the real threat had merely been imprisoned.

Newt frowned as he thought of Grindlewald and the intensity of his eyes as he stared at Newt with pure loathing.

"Will we die, just a little?" He'd asked mockingly. And Newt had wondered if Grindlewald was also a legilimens like Queenie, for he had indeed felt himself die a little, watching Credence be attacked, unable to save him. Just like he'd been unable to save the girl in Sudan.

Newt doubted that MACUSA could hold Grindlewald for long, and had sent letters to both his brother and Albus Dumbledore, informing them of all that had happened in New York. He'd told his brother, as being head of the Auror department at the Ministry, Newt felt his brother should be informed. Even if Macusa sent out an international memo, Newt knew Theseus would also want to hear from him.

And he'd written to Dumbedore because he felt he wanted to share Credence's story with him, as well as the news of Grindlewald. Theseus, he knew was much like Madam Piquery: who cared about some dead threat when there was one still alive? But Dumbledore, he knew, would understand Newt's feelings about the matter.

If only they'd been able to save him, Newt sighed again as he finally found his room.

Newt remembered seeing that last final wisp of the obscurus, appearing to move of its own accord, fleeing out the opening in the subway system, and his heart hoped that, somehow, Credence may still be alive.

But surely the odds of that were-

Newt froze.

He'd just opened the door to his room, and he realised that he did indeed, have a roommate. The young man sat on the bed, one small bag his only luggage, and his eyes were wide with recognition as he regarded Newt warily.

"Credence?" Newt whispered.

"Hello," the young man answered cautiously, regarding the man who had tried to help him in the subway with a mixture of fear, hope and relief.

"You're alive," Newt knew he was stating the obvious, but he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Yes," came the quiet answer, and Newt could see Credence was already flinching, like a wounded dog, anticipating a strike.

Newt smiled in immense relief, which caused some confusion to Credence. People didn't usually smile around him.

"I'm so happy you're alright, Credence," he assured the boy and surprise flashed across Credence's face. He had no memory of anyone saying they were happy he was anything.

Newt quickly entered their room, locking the door behind him, and placing his suitcase on the floor of their cabin before taking a seat on the small bed opposite Credence's.

"We thought the MACUSA aurors had killed you," Newt began.

"So did I," Credence nodded. "But I was able to leave-"

"In your obscurus form," Newt nodded.

"That's what it's called?" Credence asked and Newt nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"I travelled around the city until I found someplace safe to rest. An ally behind the library. It took a couple of days before I got my body back. Then I decided I should leave New York. If those people thought I was still alive…" Credence began rocking slightly on the bed and Newt slowly moved to sit beside him, placing a hand hesitantly on his shoulder, for he knew as well, that if MACUSA knew Credence lived, they'd see him as a threat and try to finish the job. Credence appeared to lean in towards Newt, as if yearning for more contact.

"I thought I should leave," Credence haltingly continued, "this was the next ship leaving the country, so I went back to Ma's place and found my adoption papers," here, he pulled a wad of folded paper from his pocket, "to get myself a passport. I found Modesty. I asked her if she wanted to come with me, and she said 'no'." Credence bowed his head. "She's afraid of me, now. I took her to an orphanage, and gave her Ma's money. I'd withdrawn it all. It wasn't much, but she'll be okay. With me meant to be dead," Credence explained at the look on Newt's face, "and Ma and Chastity dead, Modesty inherits everything. No more Second Salemers," he finished, a bittersweet edge to his voice.

"It was kind of you, to try and provide for your little sister," Newt told Credence. He'd certainly thought things through well enough.

"It's my fault she's an orphan again," Credence mumbled, tears rolling down his cheeks as he shrunk in on himself. "I'm a monster."

"No, you're not, Credence," Newt gripped the boy's shoulder firmly. "You are not a monster. You are a good person, who has been punished for something you can't even help. And that is not your fault."

Credence continued to breathe shakily, but his tears stopped flowing as he gazed at Newt.

"Let me help you," Newt offered gently.

"Mr Graves said he'd help me," Credence stated, his voice empty.

"That was not Mr Graves," Newt told him. "That was a man named Gellert Grindlewald. He was impersonating Graves, as he tried to use you." Newt took a breath, as a shocked, choking sound escaped the younger man's throat and it occurred to him that this information may have been too much for Credence. He may have been the most powerful obscurial Newt had ever encountered, but he had still spent most of his life in the muggle world, with a mother who had tried to squash his spirit.

"I'm so sorry," Newt spoke up again, trying a different approach. "I just realised I never introduced myself: Newt Scamander."

Confusion filling his eyes, Credence, carefully took the proffered hand.

"Credence Barebone," he replied cautiously. "You're Tina Goldstein's friend?"

"Yes, that's right," Newt answered quickly, averting his gaze, his eyes landing on his case.

"She was nice," Credence whispered, remembering the only person who had ever done him a kindness, without expecting something in return.

"Yes, she is," Newt agreed with a smile, his mind racing to find the best step to take next. "She'll be so happy to hear you're okay, Credence," Newt assured him.

Credence avoided Newt's eyes, preferring the idea of staying dead, but still wishing he could see the kind, dark haired woman again.

"Credence," Newt began, an idea forming in his mind. "Do you still want to be a part of the wizarding world?"

Hope began to fill Credence's dark eyes as he nodded, throat too tight to speak.

"Then I have something I want to show you," Newt announced. Taking out his wand, he cast a muggle repelling charm on their cabin door, so they wouldn't be disturbed. Then, with Credence watching hungrily, he magically untied his case, opening it on the floor of their room.

Credence felt his jaw drop as he watched Mr Scamander climb down into the briefcase.

"Come on," Newt called up, gesturing for Credence to follow.

Force of habit caused Credence to hesitate, but only for a moment, and he was soon eagerly following Newt down.

~..~..~..~..

Newt watched as Credence slowly descended the ladder into his shed, as he set about preparing the food for his creatures.

"Could you carry this for me please?" Newt offered a bucket to Credence who accepted it hesitantly, confused but curious.

"Come on then," Newt invited, throwing open the door of his shed and picking up the wheelbarrow just outside, "this way."

Credence felt his jaw drop as he followed Mr Scamander out the door and into what looked like a large zoo. Or at least, what he thought a zoo would look like. His Ma had never let him visit the New York Zoo. Still, he had an idea of what it was like. But he imagined that it would pale in comparison to this extraordinary place, inside a suitcase, of all things. Strange creatures flew, ran and scampered about him as he tried to keep up while wishing he had time to look around at everything.

Newt watched Credence carefully as he led the young man around the different enclosures of his case, feeding the creatures, checking their health and he was gratified to see Credence, while nervous at first, begin to relax as the learned fear on his face gave way to wonder. Credence seemed to particularly like the friendly mooncalves, and watched in amazement as they jumped around, plucking the floating pellets from the air as he spread their meal out in front of them. Carefully, Credence reached out and stroked the soft wool coat of the mooncalf nearest him. The mooncalf turned and Credence flinched, only to have the mooncalf nuzzle closer, wanting more pats. Slowly, a smile appeared at the corners of Credence's mouth and he resumed running his hands down the neck and back of the fluffy mooncalf.

Smiling, Newt felt his idea has gone rather well, as he marvelled at the effect his creatures were having on Credence, an effect he understood all too well.

"That's what I've always liked about creatures," Newt spoke up from examining a pregnant female mooncalf. "Creatures don't care who you are or what you've done. Just treat them with respect, and they'll do you the same curtesy." He sighed. "Why can't more humans be like that?"

Credence's eyes darted to Newt nervously, and he swallowed.

"You said…" he began hesitantly. "In the subway: you said you knew a girl who was…like me?"

"Yes," Newt answered carefully. "I met her when I was in Sudan a few months ago. She was eight years old, and the only witch in her village. The other villagers, while not magical, new what magic was, and were afraid of her. Her family, not knowing, I suppose, that she could go to a school where she could learn to control her powers, instead tried to tell her to not use her magic, fearful she'd be attacked. And in doing so, she developed what's called an obscurus. Like you, she would try and suppress her magic, until it built up so much it exploded out of her whenever she got angry or scared. When she accidently killed her parents, her village imprisoned her. That's when I found her."

Newt looked up to see Credence staring, hanging on his every word.

"I'd heard rumours of a 'black curse' in a village whilst I was studying the Nundu," here, Newt gestured to the great cat with an inflatable air sack around it's throat in a nearby habitat. "When I went to the village, I found the girl, and was able to confirm she was an obscurial. I had never met an obscurial before, but knew the stories. No obscurial has been known to live past the age of ten, so I knew she wouldn't survive long. I thought if I removed the obscurus from the girl, it would help her survive." Newt hung his head. "But it didn't work. The obscurus can't survive without their host, and it attacked, not only me, but the girl as well. It killed her."

Newt took a deep breath.

"I was able to capture the obscurus though, keep it contained," Newt finished. "I hoped to study it, to learn about it, so that if I ever met another obscurial," he raised his eyes to Credence, "I wouldn't make the same mistake."

"So, you can't take it from me?" Credence asked hesitantly, gesturing to his chest where, Newt presumed, the obscurus dwelt within him.

"No," Newt answered. "It would kill you, Credence."

Credence whimpered as he began to shrink in on himself again. Was he doomed to keep hurting people, until this thing inside killed him?

"However," Newt continued quickly. "I'm very impressed at your level of control, Credence. As such, I have another idea."

"What's that?"

Newt smiled. "Simple really: you learn magic."

"What?" Credence stared, a small frown of confusion forming on his face. "You- you can teach me? But I thought…"

"Everyone who has magic within them can learn to control it," Newt told him. "For most of us, we're able to go to school, where we learn to control our magic and use our powers properly. However, as you have been supressing yours, quite successfully, as you apparently never even received your letter to go to Ilvermorny." Newt wasn't quite sure what he was saying now, but the theory rolled off his tongue, and it seemed plausible enough. No obscurial, to his knowledge, had reached the age to receive a letter to school, so how had Credence been missed? Most likely, Newt supposed, because he'd suppressed his magic so much that it hadn't been detected until it began to burst out from him when he grew older.

"But now, I can learn?" Credence pressed, hope filling his eyes.

"I think that the reason your magic bursts forth so much is because it doesn't have a proper outlet," Newt mused aloud. "So, if we were able to teach you how to focus that magic of yours, so you can use a little bit when you want to," Newt waved his wand and magically gathered his equipment back into the wheelbarrow as a demonstration, "then we can siphon off the obscurus bit by bit, as it were, until your magic is under your control alone."

Credence stood up, stumbling slightly in his eagerness. "You really think you can help me?" He asked Newt. "Why? Why would you do that for me?"

Newt regarded Credence pensively as he considered the question.

"Because you need help," Newt answered carefully, trying to be as honest as he could. "And I want to help you. I know what it's like to be different," he admitted, "And no one should be ashamed of being who they are."

Hope slowly lit up Credence's dark eyes, as he heard the sincerity in Newt's words.

"When do we start?" He asked.

"Now, if you like. We have a long voyage ahead," Newt smiled as Credence nodded eagerly. "Though, I admit I'm no expert myself. I think I'll also send a letter to my old school professors," Newt added. "They can maybe give you extra lessons." Newt picked up his wheelbarrow as he led the way back to the shed. "I'd love for you to visit my old school. Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world, Credence," Newt told him proudly. "You'd love it."

"What's it like?" Credence asked.

Newt smiled as he sat down on a bench outside his shed, gesturing for Credence to join him.

"Alright, lesson one," he began. "Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry."

Credence sat close to Newt, ready to hang on his every word.

~..~..~..~

Standing in front of the small bakery, Queenie was so happy to see all of the customers leaving with their arms full of breads and pastries. Jacob was clearly doing well, making the baked goods he loved, and Queenie was so proud of him.

It had taken her weeks to locate the right place, as, while the bank had apparently accepted Newt's gift as collateral, it still took time to start up a new business. Queenie had spent all of her free time, wondering around New York City, reading the thoughts of the people around her, trying to figure out if they'd discovered a new bakery in the area. Tina had done what she could to help, giving her the name of the bank Jacob had originally visited, and the location of his apartment building. It had certainly helped to narrow down the search area, but still, 'Kowalski's Quality Baked Goods' had been open for almost a month before Queenie had found it.

Approaching the window, Queenie looked inside, trying to catch a glimpse of Jacob, and eventually she saw him, standing behind the counter, smiling at his customers as he worked. Queenie couldn't help smiling too, finally being able to see him.

She knew, officially, she shouldn't be anywhere near here. American magical laws stated that it was illegal to fraternise with a nomaj, except for daily business. And this particular nomaj had seen too much of the wizarding world.

"I just don't want you getting hurt, Queenie," Tina had told her in concern. Tina may not have Queenie's gift, but, as her sister, she still knew what Queenie had been planning. 'Or arrested,' she'd added in her mind.

But Queenie was determined. She'd never met a man as sweet as Jacob Kowalski, and she had seen his mind, he'd felt the same way she had.

" _I'll come with you," she remembered offering that day on the subway steps. "We'll go somewhere. We'll go anywhere."_

And while Jacob had bravely refused, she could see that he was sorely tempted. He hadn't wanted to forget her. He hadn't wanted to forget any of it.

Still gazing through the window, Queenie's eyes widened as she finally noticed the shapes of some of Jacob's pastries. She could see a niffler, an erumpet, a demiguise…

She'd learned from Newt's mind that the swooping evil venom specialised in removing bad memories. But while things like getting arrested by MACUSA and seeing the obscurus would have been bad for Jacob, he'd otherwise had only good memories of his time with magic. And seeing the little creature-shaped pastries gave Queenie hope that, maybe, he hadn't forgotten everything.

He just needed help filling in the gaps.

Luckily, being a legilimens, Queenie could help do just that.

Reaching for the shop door, Queenie had to pause.

Should she really do this? She looked again at how happy Jacob was. He'd had his dream of a successful bakery. What right did she have to take him out of this? Would he even want to remember the magical world? Remember her?

With all the crowds on the street outside, Queenie couldn't focus on Jacob's thoughts, and so decided that she'd go in and listen carefully. If he couldn't recognise her, or reacted badly, she'd leave him in peace- her heart clenched painfully at that prospect. But, she told herself, if he could, somehow, recognise her, remember her, then she would help him get his memories back.

And they'd leave America, if needed.

'Don't get too ahead of yourself, Queenie,' she told herself. 'First things first.'

Taking a breath, she opened the shop door and walked in, breathing in the warm, comforting smells of breads, fruits and spices.

The shop was full, and Queenie wondered over to a shelf, pretending to look at the breads for sale, while trying to focus on Jacob's mind. She'd never really liked crowds, as all the spoken words mingled with the thoughts and it was sometimes difficult to tell the difference. But, once Queenie was familiar with a person's mind through regular contact, she could often focus on finding them even over a large area. Tina's mind, which was as familiar to Queenie as her own, she could detect over quite a large distance.

Jacob, she could focus on easier, now she was in the same room. And she could sense his contentment and pride, at seeing how happy his customers were with his pastries. But he wasn't currently thinking about anything relevant to what Queenie was after. How could she tell what he remembered?

Thankfully, a woman who was at the front of the line was admiring the demiguise pastries on display, marvelling at the strange, novel shapes.

"Where do you get your ideas from, Mr Kowalski?" She asked.

"I don't know," Jacob smiled. "They just come."

Finally, Queenie saw a glimpse of magic in Jacob's mind: he could see the demiguise, Dougal, shuffling along a shopping mall, carrying a handbag. And again, sitting calmly in his hanging basket bed from a tree.

But the images were disconnected. They were like a wizard's photograph: Moving, but only capturing that single instance, with no real context to know what happened before or after the moment was captured.

But he did remember something. As the customer moved away, the shop emptied slightly, and Queenie felt it was time to really test Jacob's memory.

Would he remember her?

Turning, Queenie caught the baker's eye, and was rewarded as Jacob did a double take. Queenie had taken care to wear her pink coat and hat, just as she'd done when she was with Jacob the last time, hoping it would help trigger a memory.

As she approached the counter slowly, she could tell Jacob was feeling a sense of déjà vu, and was delighted as her face appeared clearly in his mind: laughing at the dinner table, making eye contact through a closing doorway dressed in her sheer silk dressing gown, and smiling while wearing a glittering, pink, flapper dress.

Jacob believed the visions of her were only dreams, but Queenie couldn't help but smile delightedly. He did remember her! She hadn't been forgotten.

Jacob's hand trailed absentmindedly to the scar on his neck left by the murtlap, and again, he saw her in his mind, sitting across from him at the dinner table.

He smiled. Still unsure about how she was real, but delighted that his dream girl had appeared to come to life.

"Hello Mr Kowalski," Queenie greeted cheerfully. "Your bakery's turned out beautifully."

"Uh, thank you," Jacob responded with a grin, standing up straighter, trying to look good for her, which only made Queenie's smile grow wider.

"How can I help you today, Miss…?"

"Goldstein," she supplied. "But you can call me Queenie. Queenie Goldstein."

"Queenie," Jacob's voice trailed off as he felt another rush of Déjà vu, then he realised he was staring, and mentally berated himself for being unprofessional.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's okay honey," Queenie assured him and finally, she saw a clearer memory in Jacob's mind:

" _it's okay honey. Most guys think what you was thinking first time they see me."_

Jacob shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, but Queenie couldn't help but giggle delightedly. Already, his memory was returning. His memories could come back fully, she was sure of it.

But as the bell jingled to signal more customers coming into the shop, Queenie figured it was enough for now. She'd been able to find Jacob's bakery, and realise he still had some memories of magic, even if they were disjointed to the point where he thought they were dreams.

Still, the fact that he had some memories gave her hope that he could be reached.

'Slowly, though, Queenie,' she told herself, remembering that she only had ten minutes left of her lunchbreak remaining, and Jacob still had a bakery to run.

"Could I have one of those, please?" She pointed to the little demiguise pastries in the display case.

"Of course," Jacob smiled eagerly as he got one out for her, and Queenie got another wave of déjà vu from the baker as he placed the demiguise pastry in a bag for her.

"I'm sorry, but, have we met before?" he asked her as she paid for her purchase with some of the nomaj money she and Tina kept around the house. "I've got this weird feeling that I know you from somewhere."

"Well, maybe you do," Queenie answered cheekily, "and something made you forget."

"No, no, no," Jacob shook his head. "I'd remember you."

"Well, maybe part of you does," Queenie put forward gently. "And that's why I seem familiar."

Jacob tilted his head slightly as he processed this perspective, and was curious to find that he liked the idea of knowing this beautiful, mysterious woman from somewhere.

What he didn't like was the idea that he was forgetting something important, and his chest tightened slightly, as if trying to remind him, but his brain just couldn't place it.

"Never mind, honey," Queenie told him gently. "We have plenty of time. I'll come see you tomorrow, okay?"

Jacob nodded slowly, already counting the time in his mind. Then he realised that he hadn't spoken aloud. How had she…

Queenie threw a cheeky smile over her shoulder as she opened the bakery door.

"See you tomorrow, Jacob!" She called as she left.

Jacob nodded, lifting his had to wave goodbye, albeit a little too late. Slowly he let out a breath, already looking forward to tomorrow.

Queenie left Jacob's bakery with a little skip in her step that had nothing to do with the little demiguise pastry she carried in her paper bag.

Jacob had remembered her! His memories were disjointed, true, the swooping evil venom clearly had taken its toll, but if the memories were still there, they could resurface.

Queenie knew what she was planning on doing was illegal, but she didn't care. Jacob was the sweetest man she'd ever met, and now, knowing that a part of him remembered her and wanted to remember more, only strengthened her determination to help him get his memory back.

She had to write a letter to Newt, she realised.

She needed to learn more about the non-magical relationship laws in England.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I remember seeing that little wisp of the obscurus moving on its own in the aftermath of the subway fight, and knew that was important. Then I heard of a cut scene where Credence was getting on the same ship as Newt. It had been cut due to the fact the director didn't want the premise for the next movie to be so obvious. But, I figured, if Credence really was on the ship with Newt, they'd surely meet, and I was certain Newt would try to help him, using his creatures, of course. Then, I remembered that we'd be seeing a young Dumbledore in the next movie, and realised: who would be the first person Newt would go to for help teaching Credence magic? His old professor, of course! Dumbledore, I figured, would likely jump at the chance, possibly seeing a little redemption for himself after losing his sister, Ariana…_

 _But I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry._

 _Please leave a review, and let me know what you think!_

 _P.S: to those waiting for updates on my previous stories, have no fear, I have not abandoned them. The muse just hasn't been striking for a long time. But, I hope with writing this new story, the muse will start to come back regarding my old ones._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Hi everybody! Thanks for reading. A lot is happening in this chapter, and I hope you like the theories I've come up with. You'll find my explanations on my theories at the end of the chapter._

 _Let's get to it!_

~..~..~..~..

Queenie practically bounced up the steps of the brownstone apartment after her work day, already thinking of the letter she was going to send to Newt, regarding the best way to go about moving to England in the future. Neither of the sisters had yet to hear from the Magizoologist, but as far as they were aware, he would only just be arriving in England by now, and as Newt didn't seem to have his own owl, (strange, considering he appeared to have every other animal possible,) they figured they wouldn't hear from him for at least another week or so.

So focused was Queenie in her own mind, that she didn't register Tina's thoughts until she was right outside their door.

'What was Tina doing home so early?' She wondered, entering their apartment, only to be bombarded by such a surge of mixed emotions, it almost made her head spin.

"Teenie?" The blond rushed over to sit beside her sister on the couch in concern. The brunette appeared frozen, but her mind was a swirl of images and feelings, it was difficult to sort through.

"Tina, what's wrong?" Queenie asked as she saw tears flowing silently down her sister's face, falling on what appeared to be a letter unfolded in her hand. Wordlessly, Tina handed it over.

 _Dear Tina,_ Queenie read.

 _I'm able to send this letter to you a lot sooner than expected, as I believe that what has transpired is far too important, especially for you, and I felt you should know as soon as possible. I borrowed an owl for the purpose, thankfully my professor wrote back to me quickly, and I hope he doesn't mind if I send his owl on a detour to you before I reply to him._

 _But perhaps I should start at the beginning:_

 _Credence is alive._

 _He's alive, Tina. He's here with me on the ship, making the crossing to England. I met him after I came aboard._

 _Apparently, when the aurors attacked him in the subway, he was able to survive due to being in obscurus form. He was able to escape and find a safe place to recover. He said he was able to return to human form after a day or so. Knowing he was presumed dead, he provided what he could for his younger sister, who remains in New York, got himself a passport and bought a ticket on the first ship leaving America which, incidentally, was the same ship I was booked on._

 _He clearly still has powerful magic within him, Tina, and I believe, if he could be taught how to harness it, the obscurus could be drained away._

 _Credence is currently helping me care for my creatures, and is doing particularly well with making friends with the mooncalves and the diricawls, not to mention the niffler. I get the impression Credence hasn't had many opportunities to smile, growing up with the Second Salemers. There are times when I correct him on something, and he flinches, as if expecting to be hit. I've seen abused creatures behaving in a similar way, and it breaks my heart, Tina, to see Credence shrink away one moment and then appear to crave contact the next. Dougal is often walking around, holding Credence's hand whenever he comes down to the case and they both seem to enjoy the company. I've been so happy to see the effect my creatures are having on him. Slowly, he appears to be relaxing._

 _But he still needs proper training with his magic, and while he appears an eager student, I believe he needs more in-depth schooling than I can provide. I've written to my old school professors for help, and thankfully, they've agreed to meet Credence to see if he can be taught._

 _There has never been an obscurial live long enough to even be of age to attend school, let alone reach adulthood. I'm not sure how much Credence will be able to learn, or whether the training will weaken the obscurus or strengthen it._

 _But I know, if we don't try something, Credence will suffer the fate every other obscurial before him has suffered, and I can't let that happen, Tina._

 _I know how much you care about Credence, Tina and so I know you will be worried about him. But I promise that I will do everything I can to protect him, and will keep you updated on his progress._

 _He remembers you helping him, Tina, and wanted me to ask if it would be alright for him to write to you. He said you were one of the few people he's ever known to do something nice for him without asking anything in return, and would like to see you again._

 _I admit, I'd like to see you again as well. Perhaps you could come to England in the near future? Once I hand in my manuscript, I'll be forced to attend many public events to promote my book, and I would love to have your support. Queenie is invited too, of course and I'm sure you'd both love to see how Credence is doing._

 _I know, as an auror, you may be struggling with whether or not to tell Madam Piquery of Credence's survival, but by the time you read this, Tina, we should have reached England, out of reach of MACUSA laws and jurisdiction. Therefore, you will not be doing anything wrong if you wanted to keep Credence a secret. My own brother, Theseus, is the head of the Auror department here in England, so I do understand your struggle, Tina. However, if you truly feel it is the right thing to do, please know I wouldn't blame you for anything._

 _I do hope this letter finds you and Queenie well, and I hope to hear from you soon._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Newt Scamander._

"Oh, Tina," Queenie breathed.

"He's alive," Tina whispered, a hand reaching up to her chest as she tried to slow down her heart. "Credence is alive, and Newt is taking care of him."

"Oh, how wonderful," Queenie smiled. "Who better to take care of him than Newt?"

Tina smiled, and Queenie felt her sister's mind calm down as she thought of the caring, British magizoologist.

"You know," Queenie put forward. "He did say he'd love to have you in England."

"Queenie," Tina cautioned, trying to use occlumency to block her train of thought, but she'd never been good at it, not against her sister.

"Oh, Tina," Queenie held her sister close. "Not even aurors can be strong all the time. And he likes you too."

"Really?" Tina had never had the courage to ask Queenie to look into Newts mind for her. She felt that it wasn't her place to know, and besides, what if she didn't like the answer?

"Of course, he does. Write back to him," Queenie encouraged. "And to Credence. Quickly," she added, "that's not Newt's owl, after all."

Smiling, Tina stood up to find some stationary, when her eyes fell on the paper bag in her sister's hand.

"What's that?" She asked, but her suspicions were clear in her mind.

Queenie clutched the bag closer to her.

"I found Jacob's bakery," she confessed.

Tina froze.

"And?"

Hesitantly, Queenie brought the little demiguise pastry out of the paper bag to show her sister.

"He remembers?" Tina assumed, staring at the little creature shaped creation.

"Bits and pieces," Queenie admitted. "But they're all disjointed. Like dream fragments. Nothing links them."

"If anyone at MACUSA saw those pastries," Tina's mind filled with fear as she imagined her sister being arrested and taken away.

"It's a nomaj bakery, Tina, no one from MACUSA knows. I'd know if they did," Queenie assured her sister. "Jacob's no threat to us."

"I know that, Queenie," Tina tried to keep her voice calm. "But it's still illegal."

"I'm going to help him get his memory back," Queenie said in determination. "He knows he's forgetting something and wants to remember, I know it. I saw it in his head."

"And then what?" Tina asked in trepidation.

Queenie pursed her lips as she approached her sister, as she'd never actually had the courage to tell her the next part.

"We'll leave America," she stated and watched as grief filled her sister's face.

"Where will you go?" Tina asked, and Queenie felt a rush of relief. Her sister wasn't going to stop her, she was just going to miss her terribly.

Throwing her arms around her big sister in a hug, she kissed Tina's cheek.

"We'll go to England," Queenie spoke up as she held her sister close. "They don't have the same laws as here. Jacob and I could be together and we could be accepted."

Taking a shaky breath, Tina had to admit it was a plan. She wouldn't have to fear her sister would get arrested if she went to England.

But England was so far away…

"So, come with us," Queenie stepped back in excitement, already planning it in her mind. "Without me here, the only thing keeping you in New York is your work, and you would be accepted as an auror anywhere."

Tina frowned. But she only just got her job back-

"Newt said his brother was head of the auror department in England," Queenie pressed. "I'm sure, if you applied, you'd be guaranteed a job offer!"

Tina was starting to get overwhelmed, so Queenie felt it best to back off a little. The idea had been planted, though.

"Just think about it, please Teenie," Queenie beseeched her sister. "It'll take time for Jacob's memory to come back fully."

"Okay," Tina nodded. "I'll consider the idea. But don't go getting ahead of yourself, Queenie," she cautioned.

"Right," Queenie nodded. "Perspective."

Suddenly, she shoved a piece of parchment and a quill from the desk into her sister's hands.

"You get started on your letters to Newt and Credence," she instructed. "I'll start on dinner."

~..~..~..~..

"Come on Credence," Newt led the younger man up the stairs of the ship to the viewing deck, jostling past others eager to reach land. "We're nearly there."

Newt approached the railing and while it was true, that he still missed New York (or more specifically, the people he'd met in New York- and perhaps, even more specifically, a certain dark haired auror), he couldn't stop the fond smile spreading across his face as he beheld his beloved England.

A thump sounded from within his suitcase.

Credence knelt down on the deck, making as if he were tying his shoelace.

"It's alright Dougal," he told the case gently. "We're nearly in England. And I'll come down and see you as soon as I can, okay?" A softer 'thump' was his reply.

Credence stood back up, searching Newt's face for approval, and Newt smiled at him proudly.

"Dougal's become quite attached to you, Credence," he told him. "We'll make a magizoologist out of you, yet."

Credence allowed himself a small smile before he ducked his head.

"Do you think your old teachers will want to teach me?"

"Professor Dumbledore has already agreed to do so, even without Headmaster Dippet's permission if needs be." Newt reminded him of the letter he'd received a week ago. "Though I doubt that would be a problem. I remember Headmaster Dippet being very fair. As you're not a child though, I doubt you'd be able to join in the classes with the other students," Newt considered aloud, "but night classes and weekends are always an option."

Credence's began to shrink on himself, as he considered the real reason he wouldn't be allowed to attend classes with the other students would have nothing to do with his age.

"Well, let's cross that bridge when we come to it," Newt quickly moved on. "Professor Dumbledore is most eager to meet you, Credence. He said he'd be waiting for us at the docks."

~..~..~..~..

"Welcome home, Sir," the customs officer stamped Newt's passport before handing it back.

"Thank you," Newt said before moving off to the side, to wait for Credence. The customs agent found it strange that an American travelling to England would carry so little luggage, and asked him to open his bag. Not finding anything more suspicious than a change of clothes, a single notebook, Credence's adoption papers and some American money, he let him through.

"Welcome to England, Sir," he said as he stamped his passport.

"Thank you," Credence said before hurrying to catch up with Newt, who guided him through the throng of people eagerly.

Exiting the large customs building, Newt breathed in the crisp winter air, relishing the feeling of being back in more familiar surroundings.

"Newt!" A voice called, and the magizoologist turned to spy a man making his way toward them, smiling in welcome.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sir," Newt reached out and took the older man's hand gladly.

"So good to see you, Newt," Professor Dumbledore greeted. He was a slender man in his late forties, possibly early fifties, with auburn hair, lightly flecked with grey, that reached his shoulders and he sported a short beard. Accustomed as Newt was to seeing his school professor in wizard's robes, he had to admit, Dumbledore looked very different in the tailored purple suit he'd worn for this muggle environment. The shade of fabric brought out the red in his hair brilliantly and made his blue eyes seem to shine even brighter.

"Good to see you too, Sir," Newt replied with a smile. "Thank you for meeting us."

"Oh, my pleasure," Dumbledore smiled before turning his gaze to the young dark-haired man standing just behind Newt.

"And you must be Credence," Dumbledore smiled warmly as he extended a hand, though there seemed to be a hint of sadness to his eyes.

Slowly, Credence shook Dumbledore's hand as he nodded.

"Nice to meet you," he said quietly.

"Wonderful to meet you too, my boy," Dumbledore studied Credence thoughtfully before seeming to nod.

"Now," he announced with a twinkle in his eye. "Let's get you to Hogwarts. The Christmas holidays have just started, so the school should be relatively empty."

Christmas. Newt hadn't realised the holiday was so close. As they walked, he found himself thinking he really ought to get something for Tina. He'd never really been one for presents, but he wanted to get something for the raven-haired auror. Her last smile to him at the docks filled his mind and he felt his heart rate increase.

'Stop it, Newt,' he told himself. 'She's just a friend.'

But friends still give each other Christmas gifts, right?

Casting his eyes aside to Credence, Newt thought he should get something for him as well. The single small bag, mostly filled with papers, told Newt that there would be many things Credence would need, if he were to start a new life here in England.

And Newt found himself wondering if Credence had ever really received anything heartfelt in his life. Judging again by the small bag, and also the way Credence continued to walk with his head lowered, Newt doubted it, and promised himself he would do everything he could to help Credence start anew, here in England.

Leading the way down the streets, Dumbledore headed down an ally way, where he took a glass bottle from his pocket and placed it on the ground.

Credence watched with fascination as Dumbledore took out his wand and pointed at the bottle.

"Portus," he said, and the bottle glowed blue for a moment before returning to its former state.

"Do you have a permit for that?" Newt asked.

"Do you have a permit for that?" Dumbledore nodded at Newt's case.

Newt cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact and Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

"So, Credence," Dumbledore turned to the young man standing uncertainly at Newt's side. "Has Newt told you about portkeys?"

Credence shook his head.

"Well, it's basically an enchanted object that, when touched, will transport you to a predetermined destination," Dumbledore explained, gesturing to the bottle on the ground. "I have now enchanted this bottle, so that when we all touch it, we will appear outside Hogwarts school." Kneeling, he placed his hand on the glass, inviting the other two to join him.

Newt quickly knelt down, gripping his case tightly with one hand while placing his other on the portkey. Hesitantly, Credence followed suit.

"Now, this may feel a bit jarring," Dumbledore cautioned. "Three…two…one."

Newt felt the classic jolt behind his navel, then it was the feeling like he was being thrown into a tornado, and he had to close his eyes, gripping his case tightly so as to avoid losing it. Moments later, the three men were standing outside a pair of wrought iron gates.

Or at least, two of them were standing, Credence, like many first timers, stumbled and fell to the ground, breathless.

"Are you alright?" Newt was quick to help him up. "Don't worry," he assured him, "everyone stumbles the first time."

"I think you did rather well, Credence," Dumbledore assured him as he approached the gates. "I actually vomited the first time I used a portkey."

"I thought you said you vomited the first time you apparated?" Newt queried.

"Both, I'm afraid," Dumbledore answered casually. "Unfortunately, I've never been good with motion sickness. Ah," he called out. "Professor Imamu!"

Newt looked up to see an African woman in rich robes of patterned blue fabric approaching the gates.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," the woman greeted as she opened the gates with a flick of her hand. "You are right on time."

"Professor Imamu," Dumbledore did the introductions, "may I introduce Newt Scamander, and Credence Barebone. Gentlemen, this is our newest faculty member: Professor Batini Imamu. She arrived from Africa earlier this year to become our new defence against the dark arts teacher."

"Welcome Credence," the woman smiled warmly to the younger man, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, which was a pleasant surprise to Credence. "And welcome back Mr Scamander. I've heard much about you." She gestured to his case. "Do you have a nundu in there?"

"Yes," Newt answered, stammering slightly.

Professor Imamu smiled.

"There was a family group of nundu that lived near my village when I was growing up," she explained. "Since coming to England, I admit, I have missed my homeland very much. If you could spare the time, I would love to see your nundu, and it's living area."

"Certainly," Newt said eagerly. "And if you have any ideas on improving the habitat, please tell me. I want my creatures to be as comfortable as possible."

"Thank you. I'd be happy to help you in your knowledge where I can. Now," she gestured to the school. "Shall we?"

As they walked up the path, it wasn't until they crested a small hill that Credence got his first view of the castle, and he felt his jaw drop.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Credence," Newt smiled.

~..~..~..~..

As Professor Dumbledore and Professor Imamu led the pair through the castle, Newt couldn't help the feeling of nostalgia, as the memories of his school days flooded past him, and he eagerly acted as tour guide for an attentive Credence, pointing out the corridor that would lead to the kitchens and the Hufflepuff common room. Further on, saying if Credence went up another hallway, he'd reach the charms classroom. "And I remember, in my fourth year," Newt was saying as they walked, "finding a secret storage room on the corridor just down that way," he pointed as they passed. "I used to keep a small menagerie in that room, but had to clear them all out when I got expelled."

Being the Christmas break, most of the students were gone for the holidays and the halls were empty as they made their way through the castle. Credence couldn't stop gaping and was startled several times by a painting or suit of armour moving unexpectedly.

"You have truly lived away from the wizarding world your whole life?" Dumbledore asked curiously, seeming very interested in their unique guest.

Credence took his gaze from the Grey Lady, who was drifting demurely past to focus his attention on the Hogwarts professor.

"Yes Sir," Credence answered quietly.

"So, if you don't mind me asking," Dumbledore prodded gently, "how is it you came to learn you were a wizard, if you never received a letter for school?"

Credence ducked his head, and Newt quickly turned to study his young friend's face.

"You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable," Newt told him.

"I'm so sorry," Dumbledore was quick to apologise. "Have I overstepped?"

"No, it's okay," Credence spoke up. "My Ma," he answered Dumbledore's question. "She adopted me… to 'save me from an unnatural upbringing', she told me." Credence swallowed and ducked his head as everyone stopped in shock at his words. "She was the head of the 'New Salem Philanthropic Society' in New York," he explained to the two professors. "And when I started showing signs of being different… of doing anything she disapproved of, I would be disciplined. She said she thought she could stop me from becoming wicked…because she said I was born wicked."

A pregnant pause filled the hall and Dumbledore brought a hand to his mouth, blinking rapidly.

"Credence, listen to me carefully," Newt stepped forward to grip the younger man's shoulder. "You are not wicked. You never have been. And now that you've escaped America, you can live a new life. One where you make the choices, not your mother."

"But if I can't be taught…" Fear once again filled Credence's voice and Newt was quick to cut him off.

"And that's why we're here," he reminded him. "So that you can learn to control your magic, as you were always meant to."

"This way, then," Professor Dumbledore led them down the corridor at a brisk pace, eager to reach the headmaster's office.

But as far as Dumbledore was concerned, this boy was going to be schooled whether professor Dippet conceded or not.

~..~..~..~..

The Headmaster's office was large and circular, and Newt felt that it hadn't changed much, as he looked around the room. The portraits of previous headmasters still adorned the walls, and as Professor Dippet came from behind his desk, he suddenly felt as he did when he was fifteen, and about to be reprimanded for setting another creature loose in the castle.

"Batini, Albus, thank you," Professor Dippet acknowledged then in greeting. "Newt, welcome back."

"Thank you, Sir," Newt greeted, a little uncomfortable. After all, the last time he spoke to Professor Dippet was regarding his expulsion.

"I heard you and your creatures caused quite a stir in New York," Dippet continued, eying Newt carefully.

"Everything got sorted," Newt was quick to assure him. "Nothing to worry about."

Credence tried to breathe deeply as Professor Dippet turned his eyes on him. The man was much older than Professor Dumbledore, his hair a pale white and receding heavily and his blue eyes, though appearing tired, fell on him kindly.

This was the man who would decide if he could be accepted here, Credence knew, and he was anxious to make a good impression.

"And this must be the young man himself," Dippet finished.

"Credence Barebone," Credence held out his hand in greeting, swallowing nervously. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

Credence practically sighed with relief as Professor Dippet accepted his hand.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Credence," Professor Dippet replied. "And I'm sorry for whatever you've been through that has caused you to feel the need to repress your magic. I must confess, I know very little about obscurials," he continued, "but we will help you however we can."

It appeared to take a moment for Dippet's words to register in Credence's mind.

"You mean, you'll teach me?" He stammered, hardly daring to believe it. Could he have been accepted so easily?

"Well, therein lies the rub," Professor Dippet frowned slightly. "You are unprecedented, Credence." He frowned slightly, studying Credence's face. "How old are you?" He asked curiously.

"Twenty-five," Credence answered softly, and Newt raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was a little older than Newt had guessed. Although, he considered, Credence's immense shyness did give the impression of a much younger person. And while he may always be shy, perhaps, with time, and some guidance, Credence will come out of his shell.

"Extraordinary," Dippet mused. "Never has there ever been record of an obscurial older than ten."

Dumbledore lowered his gaze, appearing almost guiltily, though no one appeared to notice, for all other eyes were on Credence.

"The obscurus within you may have changed how your magic is triggered, how it's channelled," Professor Dippet continued. "And as, from what I hear, you seem to have control over it, perhaps now, the only way you may be able to tap into your magic is through your obscurus. You may not even be able to use a wand, we have no idea."

"What are you saying?" Credence, asked, fear filling his voice again.

"What we're saying, Credence," Professor Imamu spoke up, gently, "is that we need to find out how your magic is different, if at all, and how you channel your power. If we can identify those things, then we can teach you ways for you to harness your magic."

"We are actually very fortunate to have Professor Imamu with us," Dumbledore spoke up quickly. "The wizards of Africa specialise in wandless magic. Batini doesn't even own a wand."

"A wand is used to help focus, direct and magnify a wizard's power," Professor Imamu explained to Credence. "As powerful as you are, Credence, there is a high chance you will not need one. So, professor Dumbledore and I will be your primary instructors here, and as you have never used a wand, yet still have some control, I will be teaching you in wandless magic. If it is discovered that a wand would be more helpful, you will be provided one."

"But first, we have to discover how his magic works," Professor Dippet reminded them.

"No," Professor Imamu countered, studying Credence carefully. "First, it is Credence who must understand how his magic works. Only then can he learn to truly control it." She clapped her hands twice solemnly before pressing them together in front of her.

"Let's move to an empty classroom," she suggested. "Time for your first lesson."

"Wait," Newt told them all, spotting something in the corner of the room. "There's something else we have to do for Credence first."

Newt walked over and carefully took the Sorting Hat down from its pedestal.

"No one, can be a student at Hogwarts without being sorted into a house," Newt stated firmly.

"Oh, of course," Dumbledore agreed with a smile.

"Is that really necessary?" Professor Dippet asked with a sigh.

"Yes, it is," Newt answered. He believed that for Credence to feel comfortable with himself, he needed to truly feel he was accepted, that he was a truly a part of the wizarding world. And for most of the wizarding community in Britain, that meant going to Hogwarts. Even now, Newt proudly wore his Hufflepuff scarf, and still, a common question when meeting a wizard was: 'what Hogwarts house were you in?'

Now, Credence could be a part of all of that.

"Even I was sorted into a house when I arrived here," Professor Imamu reminded Professor Dippet.

"Really? What house did you get?" Newt queried.

"Ravenclaw," Batini gestured to her blue robes proudly.

"Now, Credence," Newt stood before his young friend, who couldn't take his eyes off the hat in his hands, "do you remember me telling you about this?"

"The sorting hat," Credence nodded. "It belonged to Godric Griffindor himself. And Salazar Slytherin enchanted it so that it could sort students into houses, seeing where they would best belong."

"Very good," Newt smiled proudly. "And can you remember the four houses and their qualities?"

"Hufflepuff," Credence began, glancing at Newt's scarf. "It's the house for people who are hard-working, fair minded and loyal. Ravenclaw, is for people who are intelligent, quick witted and insightful. Griffindor: for people who are brave, chivalrous and daring. And Slytherin: for people who are ambitious, resourceful and cunning."

"Well remembered," Newt congratulated.

"But I don't know if I'm any of those things," Credence admitted.

"Everyone belongs somewhere, Credence," Newt assured him. "Now, shall we see where the sorting hat puts you?"

Nodding eagerly, Credence allowed Newt to place the sorting hat over his head.

Everyone in the room waited with baited breath…

"Slytherin!" The sorting hat announced grandly, and Credence removed the hat from his head as everyone clapped.

"Congratulations," Newt smiled, and his initial surprise at the sorting choice faded away as he began to think of what he knew of Credence: For an obscurus as powerful as him to survive for so long, they would need a highly focused mind, a strong will, as well as a strong sense of survival. Credence had also tried to enter the wizarding world by helping the man he thought to be Percival Graves, knowing that it was going against his adoptive mother's wishes, her beliefs and everything he'd been raised to believe, growing up with the Second Salemers. And as 'Graves' had asked for a child, Credence had tried to satisfy that request, while in full knowledge that he was, in fact, the obscurial, in order to gain acceptance from 'Graves' to enter the wizarding world and learn magic.

Ambition, resourcefulness and cunning.

"Yes," Newt nodded as he returned the sorting hat to Professor Dippet. "Slytherin seems the perfect house for you, Credence."

~..~..~..~..

Leaving professor Dippet in his study, the group moved to an empty classroom in a disused part of the school, to avoid being disturbed. Newt sat down at an old desk, his case at his feet, looking forward to observing the coming lesson, while Credence stood before Professors Imamu and Dumbledore, ready and hungry to learn.

"To perform wandless magic, you need more than just the incantation in your mind." Professor Batini Imamu began. "Magic, in essence is about using your emotions to tap into your power, and using your mind to direct your magic to change your reality at will." She nodded to Professor Dumbledore, who sent a jinx flying towards her. Professor Imamu simply raised a hand and sent the spell flying sideways into the wall, where it left a singed mark.

"What emotion do you think I used?" The woman asked, turning her dark eyes to Credence.

"Fear?" He guessed. "Fear of being hit?"

"A logical guess," Professor Imamu granted with a nod. "But no, not quite. The reason, when we are children, that our magic erupts from us when we are angry or afraid, is because those emotions are not simply powerful, but erratic." She explained. "Purely based on survival and usually devoid of logic, the magic is released but has no true direction, and so lashes at any and all within reach. It's a survival mechanism," she concluded. "It's how our magic first came to be. It was the edge we had, over predators, and non-magical people, in ancient times."

"So, we use magic through emotion?" Credence wondered.

"Magic has its root in our emotions, this is true," Professor Imamu impressed on Credence, "but without our mentality to guide our emotions, to direct our magic, the magic will, in turn, become uncontrollable. So, to control your magic, you must control your emotions. But suppression and control are too very different things." She met Credence's eyes seriously, but with compassion.

"When have you found you are most likely to lose control of the obscurus within you?" Professor Imaru asked.

"When I'm scared or angry," Credence admitted. "I always end up hurting people."

"Which makes you more afraid of your power," the woman's voice was sympathetic as Credence nodded. "Which makes you try to supress it further," she continued, "which makes your magic burst out more ferociously as it seeks an outlet. It's a terrible cycle."

Credence lowered his eyes, nodding. Does this mean they weren't going to teach him? Did they see him as too uncontrollable?

"Still, we must start somewhere," Professor Imamu became more business- like as she took her place in the centre of the room. "Your magic bursts forth when you are angry or afraid, so we will use that as a starting point. Then, as we continue to control and direct your emotions in a more constructive way, your obscurus will, hopefully, be drained away as your magic will no longer be supressed but have a proper outlet."

Credence's head shot up and Newt smiled as his eyes darted between Dumbledore and Imamu.

"You mean, you're going to teach me?" He asked, as if barely able to believe it.

"Of course, haven't we already said as much?" Professor Imamu smiled at Credence's shock. "But you should know, Credence: what we are doing is unprecedented. There has been no known record of an obscurial reaching schooling age, let alone adulthood. What we are doing is entirely experimental. But if you are willing to work," she told him, gesturing to everyone in the room, "I think I can speak for all of us, when I say: we are willing to teach you."

Credence felt himself shaking with relief.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"To start off with, perhaps Credence could come here for lessons maybe four nights a week?" Dumbledore suggested. "And, apart from us, Credence can also learn a lot about the magical natural world, by continuing to help Newt with his creatures?"

"Absolutely," Newt agreed. "Credence has been doing well with them so far, and I've enjoyed having the help." He turned to the young man in question.

"If you have no objection, Credence?"

Credence gazed in shock at these people who had agreed to help him. All, for seemingly no other reason than, they wanted to help him.

"When do we start?" He asked, gratitude seeming to emanate from him in waves.

"Right now, if you wish," Dumbledore smiled as Credence nodded eagerly.

"Alright," Professor Imamu nodded, her mind racing to find a good place to start from. "We must build on what you have already…" She encouraged Credence to stand in front of her. "Your obscurus, comes forth when you are trying to defend yourself, yes?"

Credence nodded.

"Have you been able to call on your obscurus in any other circumstance?" Imamu pressed.

"I've never tried to," Credence admitted.

"Very well," Professor Imamu nodded. "Then we'll start by teaching you a protection spell. And you were raised as a muggle," she added pensively, "so you would be less familiar with deflecting magic." Looking around, she gestured to a wooden stool near the old blackboard.

"Albus, could you-"

"Certainly." Dumbledore raised his wand, and the chair rose of the ground to hover by his side.

"Now Credence," Batini came to stand beside him. "The incantation for a basic shield spell is 'protego'."

"Protego,' he repeated.

"Yes," Imamu nodded, "so feel free to use that, whether out loud, or in your mind, to help focus the intent behind your magic. Now, your emotions will automatically help activate your magic, as you feel you must protect yourself. The trick is ensuring your mind is focused on the result that you want to achieve, and you use your body, through gestures, to direct where you want your magic to go."

Nodding to Dumbledore, he sent the chair flying in her direction.

Raising her hands defensively, palms out, professor Imamu muttered a "protego" for emphasis and the chair hit, what appeared to be, a bubble of magic that appeared around herself and Credence, before falling at their feet.

Marvelling, Credence cautiously reached out a hand, trying to find the protective bubble. But while his hand touched only air, he could feel an almost tingling sensation flit across his skin.

"The shield has done its work, and is now no longer needed," Professor Imamu explained.

"But you see?" She continued. "Your emotions activate your magic," she repeated, placing a hand on her heart. "Your mind focuses your intent," she touched her forehead. "Your body directs it," she made a shield motion with her hands.

"Now, it's your turn," she invited and Professor Dumbledore recalled the chair to him.

"Are you ready Credence?" He asked.

Credence nodded, steeling himself.

"I'm right here beside you, Credence," Batini assured him. "Just focus your mind."

"Come on, Credence," Newt encouraged.

Credence met Professor Dumbledore's gaze as he tried to feel the magic within him. He could feel the obscurus swirling in his chest and felt a flash of fear.

What if he killed everyone in here? He wondered before screwing his eyes shut.

'No,' he told his obscurus as much as himself. He was here, he was at Hogwarts School, he was at his first real lesson on magic. He would do this right.

He opened his eyes just as Dumbledore sent the chair flying towards him.

Reflexively, Credence flinched, closing his eyes once more. But he remembered to raise his hands, and as he did, he felt a rush, like a strong breeze, move through him, leaving his palms tingling.

But he felt no impact from the chair.

He also didn't hear any wood falling to the ground.

Oh, God, he hadn't hurt anyone, had he?

Cautiously, Credence opened his eyes to find he still had his hands raised defensively in front of him. Straightening up, he looked around to see the other three were all staring at the floor, slightly stunned.

Credence looked down to see nothing more than a pile of blackened sawdust on the ground before him.

"A reducto curse," Dumbledore observed. "Interesting."

"Not the shield charm we'd intended," Professor Imamu granted with a nod, "but effective, nonetheless."

"And you were in control Credence," Newt spoke up, breathing a small sigh of relief. "Look," he gestured around the room. "No obscurus. You called the magic to protect you in that one instance, and it followed you to the letter. If, in a slightly unintended way," he granted, gesturing to the pile of sawdust on the floor.

"Well done Credence," Professor Imamu praised him. "For your very first attempt, that was very impressive."

"Was that the first time you'd done magic without the obscurus appearing completely?" Dumbledore asked eagerly.

"Yes," Credence nodded, slightly stunned. He raised his eyes to his three teachers and finally felt a feeling of confidence building in his chest. "I can do this," he mumbled.

Newt smiled. "I think this deserves a round of applause," he announced before clapping his hands together, Albus and Batini quickly following suit.

Credence smiled, unused to the praise, but for the first time in his life, he felt his long-held fear recede slightly in his mind.

He was in the wizarding world. He was at Hogwarts. He was being taught magic.

And he'd proven he could control it.

~..~..~..~..

Tina headed into MACUSA early the next day, feeling a little light-headed. Her sister was helping a nomaj baker regain his memory of magic so they could start a new life together in England. Credence, the poor boy she had tried to protect from the beatings of his cruel mother, as well as the manipulation of the most evil wizard alive today, only to seemingly fail due to the order of Madam Piquery and the actions of her fellow aurors, has been discovered, by some miracle, to be alive and well, now far out of reach of the American laws that could once again order his death.

And Newt Scamander had written, saying he wanted her to come to England to see him…

"Goldstein!"

Tina turned to see another Auror, Charles Bennet, approaching her urgently.

"All aurors to the major investigation department," he informed her. "We're all to be at the briefing."

"What briefing?" Tina asked, hurrying to catch up.

"Don't know," Charles called over his shoulder, and soon, the pair were in the elevator and climbing.

Upon exiting, Tina was surprised to see the room so full. Aurors of all ranks were present, and Tina had just reached a seat when Madam Piquery entered and a hush fell over the room.

"Thank you all for coming at such short notice," the president began. "I have an important announcement to make. Rest assured, it is good news, especially after recent events."

Everyone cast curious glances around the room, but stayed quiet, waiting for the president to continue.

"Thanks to the use of veritiserum, Grindlewald has given us some highly valuable information, not all of which can be divulged at this time. However," she continued, "while Grindlewald did indeed use transfiguration to impersonate our Auror Head, Percival Graves, he informed us that he kept him alive, in order to question him on his background and habits so as to better impersonate him."

A ripple went through the hall, and Tina sat up straighter in her chair.

"Now, I'm delighted to inform everyone," Madan Piquery began to smile, "that at five fifteen this morning, Percival Graves has been found alive, having been hidden in a secret location for the past six months, and is currently seeing healers to aid him in his recovery. We hope that someday soon, he will be well enough to re-join our team."

Cheering and applause broke out at the news, and Tina felt herself smile in relief, before turning into a frown.

Grindlewald had been impersonating Percival Graves for six months? She couldn't imagine what the real Graves has been enduring throughout his abduction…

The aurors began to disperse back to their work, talking in relief and excitement that their superior was alive and well.

Or maybe, not so well, Tina thought.

"Madam Piquery," Tina called, getting to her feet.

"Auror Goldstein?" The president paused in acknowledgement.

"How is Mr Graves doing?" She asked in concern. "I imagine being abducted for six months would have no small effect."

Madam Piquery sighed, considering.

"He will need time to recover," she conceded carefully. "And I plan for him to take some time off before returning to work, even though he said he was ready to start interrogating Grindlewald himself, straight away." She smiled at the man's determination and Tina couldn't help admiring the gumption as well.

"However, he will also need time to catch up on current events," Madam Piquery added, resting her eyes on Tina. "And, as you were one of the people that led us to the capture of Grindlewald, and so led to Graves' rescue, he has requested an audience with you."

"What?" Tina asked slowly.

"I think it would be a good idea," Madam Piquery continued. "After all, you worked under Graves for a long time, and you can give a first-hand account of the events leading up to Grindlewald's capture, able to answer any questions Graves has." She looked at Tina pointedly. "There are a few areas that still need clearing up."

Tina gulped, suddenly feeling like, rather than helping Mr Graves recover, she was being asked to give a testimony.

"I'll do my best to help where I can, Madam President," Tina said evenly.

~..~..~..~..

Jacob had just opened his bakery for the day, when he saw the beautiful blonde, Queenie, waving delightedly to him from outside his store front window.

Smiling broadly, Jacob beckoned her inside. He still couldn't understand why a bombshell like her would want to spend time with him, but the baker had quickly realised that her smile definitely made his heart beat faster.

And he still couldn't help the feeling that he knew her from somewhere, he racked his brain as the beautiful woman entered his shop and he felt his breath leave him as she smiled at him.

He'd dreamed about her again last night. He'd dreamt they'd been eating dinner at a square table, and while Jacob had felt there had been others in the room, his eyes could only focus on Queenie. She had prepared the meal, and Jacob was complimenting her on her cooking.

" _Oh, you slay me," Queenie had smiled before resting her chin on her hand. "I've never really talked to a nomaj before." Her gaze was adoring, curious, and Jacob could have stared into those eyes forever._

And now she was here, in the flesh, walking into his bakery with that same, radiant smile from his dream.

"Hello Jacob, honey," Queenie greeted fondly.

"Hi, Queenie, great to see you," Jacob smiled, feeling a little flustered as he walked around the counter to greet his new favourite customer. "How are you?"

"Great, thanks," she answered breathlessly. "How are you?"

"Fantastic," Jacob smiled and it was only then he realised that she'd been calling him by his first name. He cast his mind back to the previous day, and while she'd initially greeted him as 'Mr Kowalski,' Jacob realised he had never actually told her his first name.

Yet he was sure Queenie had called him 'Jacob' yesterday.

"Yeah, I know," Queenie began, lowering her eyes, a little guilty. "I should have just stuck with calling you 'Mr Kowalski', 'cause that's the name of your bakery, but I couldn't help it." She smiled shyly. "I like calling you Jacob," she admitted.

"Don't get me wrong," he assured her quickly, "I love it."

Wait. What? He paused, as he went over what was just said. How had she known what he was thinking?

Jacob suddenly saw Queenie in his mind again, sitting across from him at the dinner table.

" _Could you stop reading my mind for a second, please?" He asked her, and Queenie lowered her eyes guiltily._

" _Don't get me wrong," he assured her quickly, "I love it." And Queenie giggled in relief._

Breathing quickly, Jacob eyed the woman standing in front of him in wonder.

'No', he thought, 'it's got to be my imagination running away with me.'

But Queenie bit her lip, seeming to be wrestling with something in her mind.

"No," she told him quietly. "It's not your imagination, Jacob."

Jacob stared, his heart beginning to pound.

'No..'

Swallowing, Queenie nodded, biting her lip nervously again.

"Yeah," she whispered, raising her eyes apprehensively.

Jacob simply stared in wonder, thankful it was still early, so there were no customers yet.

"I do know you from somewhere," he realised. "Don't I?"

"Yeah," Queenie smiled in relief as she nodded again. "But you forgot."

"How?" Jacob asked. "How could I forget someone like you?"

"Long story," Queenie told him. "But don't worry, Jacob," she assured him, cupping his face with her hand. "I promise, I'll help you remember."

Leaning forward, she kissed him gently.

As their lips touched, Jacob remembered the feeling of rain…

Flashes, like a movie reel, began playing in his mind:

 _A man offering him a small, snakelike bird…_

" _Your occamy," he explained and Jacob heard his name in his mind._

 _Newt._

" _I know I'm not dreaming," Jacob's eyes travelled over the extraordinary environment he was in. "I ain't got the brains to make this up."_

Queenie took step back, her eyes wide as she regarded Jacob in shock. He was blinking rapidly as more scenes played in his mind.

"… _they'll obliviate you in a heartbeat." Newt was saying._

" _What does 'bliviate mean?" Jacob asked._

" _It means you'll wake up," Newt explained. "And all memory of magic is gone."_

"Queenie," Jacob's voice was shaky as he stared, his eyes far away as he focused inward.

"Yes," the blond encouraged, nodding.

"Newt," Jacob stammered as he began to shake.

"That's right," Queenie said softly, stroking his face to reassure him.

 _Jacob was at the dinner table again, sitting opposite Queenie. This time he was aware that Newt was sitting on his right, and a dark-haired woman, Tina, sat on his left._

 _Queenie straightened up primly, glancing at her sister._

" _I am not flirting," she stated._

 _Tina looked apologetic._

" _Just don't go getting attached, is all," she said gently. "He's gonna have to be obliviated." She turned to Jacob. "It's nothing personal," she assured him._

"Tina," Jacob breathed.

"Very good, honey," Queenie's heart was racing, now.

Stepping back in shock, Jacob's mind reeled before his gaze fell on his creature pastries.

"Dougal," Jacob muttered, reaching out to the demiguse shaped pastry.

Queenie began to smile as Jacob continued to turn, his eyes searching.

"The niffler," Jacob exclaimed, examining the pastry he'd made, seeing the little scamp in his mind, running around a jewellery store as Newt tried to wrangle him.

Then, his eyes landed on the erumpent shaped pastries and he simply burst out laughing at the memory of watching Newt doing a strange mating dance…

"Oh, Jacob, honey," Queenie felt the man becoming overwhelmed as he stood there, hands coming to his mouth as he gazed around he shop with changed eyes before coming to rest on her.

"I remember," the baker mumbled, and his eyes widened as he remembered the case filled with those strange, silver eggshells.

'A well-wisher' the note had been signed.

Newt helped him get his bakery, he realised.

Queenie began to giggle with happiness before her laughter suddenly faded when she realised what she'd just done, and the consequences of it.

"Oh, this happened a lot faster than I thought it would," she whispered.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I'm really curious to see Dumbledore in this timeline. In the books, Dumbledore is approximately one hundred and fifty years old, so, we're assuming he'd be maybe in his early fifties or so, but still, only about a third of the way through his life. He is still just a transfiguration teacher, and not yet the wise, old Headmaster we've come to know in the Harry Potter Universe._

 _Dumbledore is often described as having a 'twinkle in his eye' and has proven on more than one occasion to have a bit of an 'up yours' attitude towards the law if he feels it is unjustified, such as when he escapes arrest in 'Order of the Phoenix' when confronted by Umbridge and Fudge._

 _As such, I felt a younger Dumbledore, while knowledgeable and highly skilled, wouldn't yet have the same level of perception and wisdom we've become familiar with him having. He's a bit cheeky and cock-sure (he's a Griffindor, after all) and I wanted him to develop his wisdom and understanding throughout this story._

 _Enter my new character: Batini Imamu:_

 _(Batini means 'inner voice' and Imamu means 'Spiritual leader' in Swahili- got it off the internet, so don't know how accurate it is, but- it sounded like a good name for the one to teach Credence how to control his magic.)_

 _I read on Pottermore, that wizards in Africa are among the most powerful the world, and are the only nation that never uses wands in their schooling. Wandless magic is said to be the most difficult to master, and considering how powerful Credence is, I thought he would need someone of equal strength, with a deeper understanding of magic, to guide him through his own journey, along with Dumbledore and Newt._

 _Then I began to wonder: how does magic actually work? How did magic begin in human history? How did it evolve?_

 _I could go on for pages regarding the theories in my head, but I tried to keep professor Imamu's lesson clear and simple, as well as realistic. But I'll try to give more detail, as succinctly as possible, here:_

 _We know that wizarding children often use magic when they're angry or scared, such as when Harry found himself on a school roof top after being chased by Dudley._

 _Why would magic be so attached, and so triggered, by these emotions? My theory is that, as we humans evolved, it was often these emotions that helped us survive, by either driving us to continue, or alerting us to danger. I could imagine that magic evolved first as a survival mechanism to help the earliest wizards escape danger or to protect themselves and those they loved. This form of magic, fuelled by pure emotion, is what I believe is known as 'ancient' or 'old' magic, as described in the stories. Such as the protection spell Lily gave Harry, when she gave her life to protect her son._

 _This ancient magic, I believe, would be the most powerful form of magic. And that's why the most powerful spells, appear to be fueled by emotion, such as the Patronus charm, which needs a powerful, happy memory in order to be created._

 _As Credence has repressed himself in more ways than just his magic, I believe that not only giving his magic an outlet, but becoming more accepting of his emotions, and giving them a chance to develop, will also help him improve his ability to overcome his obscurus._

 _I could keep on going, but I think I've summed my idea up as best as I can._

 _Now, as to the sorting…_

 _I see Newt perhaps not being a 'teacher' to Credence, so much as a 'mentor', helping him to accept who he is and teaching him more about how to be a good person, as opposed to simply a good magician. Being a Hufflepuff, Newt understands the value of acceptance, and he'll understand Credence's need to fell accepted, like he belongs somewhere._

 _And, as he said- no one can go to Hogwarts without being sorted. Newt understands that knowing you belong to a house at the school is the first experience most students have, and the first step in giving themselves an identity at the school. Wanting Credence to have the same experience, to feel like he belongs, I was sure Newt would insist on Credence being given a house, despite him being past schooling age._

 _I was at a bit of a loss as to what house Credence would be in, until I began looking at his actions throughout 'Fantastic Beasts.' His ambition to try to enter the wizarding world, despite going against his mother, and everything she stood for (and, presumably, everything he'd been raised to stand for also) made me think he had distinctly Slytherin qualities, and so that's why I placed him in that house._

 _I think part of me also wanted to have a 'nice' Slytherin portrayed in the stories for a change. I know three people who are Slytherins (I'm a Ravenclaw myself) and they are among the kindest people I know. Unafraid to put someone in their place, if needed, they'll often go above and beyond to help someone, simply because they love the challenge of finding all the different ways possible to achieve a goal. I think, once you have truly gained the trust and friendship of a Slytherin, they will actually be a fiercely loyal friend: happy to overcome any obstacle, by any means necessary, to help you out._

 _But I also believe, that while a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw may forgive, or move on, if their trust is broken, if you back-stab a Slytherin, you'll get one hell of a backlash._

 _And considering Credence was trying to help 'Grindle-Graves' find an obscurial child, so that he could join the wizarding world, then attacked ferociously once 'Graves' dismissed him…_

 _Yeah, I think Credence would be a Slytherin._

 _Now, for Percival Graves himself…_

 _I know the popular theory is that Grindlewald used Polyjuice potion to impersonate Graves, but as we never see him drink anything throughout the movie, I doubt that was actually the case. Besides, I don't think a simple 'revelio' spell would remove the effects of Polyjuice potion. Dumbledore and Harry had to wait for Barty Crouch Jnr to transform back to normal at the end of book four. Surely, if a simple 'revelio' would have done the job, Dumbledore would have done it?_

 _So, I figured transfiguration was Grindlewald's chosen method. As powerful as he is, it would have been easy. However, I doubt you'd need the person alive to do so, and I really wanted Graves to still be alive (I love Colin Farrell, and hope he comes back in the sequel). So, I felt, to really impersonate someone for a long period of time without arousing suspicion, he would need to know the person he's impersonating very thoroughly. So, I figured Grindlewad would want Graves alive to question him._

 _As for Jacob…_

 _I confess, I wanted Jacob to get his memory back as soon as possible. And, as Queenie's kiss was possibly the last thing he experienced before his memory was wiped, I felt it would be fitting to have her kiss be the key to returning his memory._

' _True love's kiss will break any curse,' after all._

 _And as, I believe, emotionally powered magic is the strongest of all, I thought it was the most likely scenario._

 _But now, Queenie and Jacob are in the position of having thoroughly broken the International Statute of Secrecy, as well as the American law regarding relationships with non-wizarding people…_

 _Okay, I think that explains my theories surrounding the main events presented in this chapter. I hope they helped to clarify why these events occurred._

 _Please leave a review, telling me what you think. I'm happy to answer any questions you have._

 _Thanks for reading,_

 _Celino._


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: Hi everybody! Thank you for the reads, favourites and follows. I had originally written this as one chapter, but it turned out to be so long that I had to split it into two! So, here's part one._

~..~..~..~..

Newt woke up to the sound of tapping on glass. Opening his eyes, he squinted blearily at his bedside clock and realised it was still early morning, just under an hour before he usually woke up.

Tap, tap, tap.

Groaning, Newt stumbled, half asleep, to his window, before pulling open the drapes to find Dumbledore's owl perched on the window sill.

Fully awake now, Newt threw open the window, allowing the owl to hop inside.

"You poor thing," he told the owl, searching around to find some owl treats, offering him a handful. "Crossing an ocean must be exhausting. So sorry about that."

As the bird ate gratefully, Newt untied the letters attached to the owl, noticing there were two for him and two for Credence.

Tina and Queenie, he realised. The letters had taken longer to reach him than he'd thought. Newt had hoped to get their replies whilst still on the ship.

But, no matter, he told himself. They were here now.

As he was awake now, and still had almost an hour before he needed to feed his creatures, Newt quickly set about lighting candles and studying the envelopes holding his letters from Queenie and Tina.

Which one should he read first? He wondered. And while he ached to rip open Tina's letter, he felt he'd rather savour hers, and so instead opened the one Queenie had sent him.

 _Dear Newt_ , she'd written. Her handwriting was looped and elegant.

 _I got home from work today to find Tina on the couch, reading your letter. She was so relieved to hear that Credence was alive, she was crying._

 _I never got to meet the boy myself, but I saw him in Tina's mind, and yours. Poor thing, it looked like he had a pretty hard life, and I'm glad he's with you now. You're so giving, Newt, I can't think of anyone else better suited to help Credence heal._

 _When I come to England, I hope I can do what I can to help him as well._

 _I found Jacob's bakery, Newt. Took me a while, but I found it. He looks so happy, and it's going so well. And while he doesn't remember much, he does remember some things. You should see his bakery, Newt, some of his pastries look like the creatures from your case._

 _When I went in, I could see flashes of magic in Jacob's mind. He recognised me, even if he couldn't remember me._

 _I know I can help him get his memory back, though I don't know how long it'll take. Still, something tells me that we'd have to leave America soon after it happens, as both of us would have broken the law, then._

 _And I don't want Jacob to forget me again._

 _But, you said that the laws in England were different, right, Newt? If Jacob and I came to England, would we be safe? Would we be accepted?_

 _Could you find out what we have to do, to help let Jacob keep his memory in England, please Newt? I'm happy to do any paperwork, or sign any contracts or visit as many departments as needed._

 _Tina's worried about me, of course. She's my sister, she's always been worrying about me. But I'm also worried about her. If Jacob and I move to England, she'll be left all alone, with nothing but her work._

 _I asked her to come with us. But she's concerned that if she moves to England so soon after just getting her job back, she might not be accepted at your ministry, as Madam Piquery wouldn't recommend her. She's such a good auror, I'm sure the British Department would accept her, but maybe it would help if she had a recommendation from someone else as well._

 _Don't tell her I told you this Newt, but she thinks about you a lot. She won't say it out loud, but she misses you. She thinks she always has to be strong, but she forgets sometimes that she's still, just a woman._

 _Didn't you say that your brother was the Head of the Auror Department, Newt? Would you be able to give a recommendation for Tina? I'm sure he'd listen to you, after all, you've seen Tina's work up close._

 _I hope all your creatures are doing well, Newt, and please give my regards to Credence, I've included a letter for him as well._

 _Thank you for any help you can give Newt, I'd really appreciate it,_

 _Your friend,_

 _Queenie Goldstein._

Newt sighed as he placed Queenie's letter on his bedside table. He sympathised with Queenie's dilemma regarding Jacob's memory, and promised himself he would write to her as soon as possible regarding what he knew of applying for an exemption to the Statute of Secrecy.

Newt's eyes then fell to the next part of the letter, regarding Tina, and the words jumped out from the page. _'…she thinks about you a lot. She won't say it out loud, but she misses you."_

Newt let out a breath as a smile crept across his face. Tina missed him…she thought about him…

Newt closed his eyes as his heart seemed to fill his chest.

'I miss you too, Tina,' he thought.

Snapping his eyes open, he quickly picked up Tina's letter and tore it open.

 _Dear Newt,_ Tina wrote, her writing clear and practical, though still with a feminine flourish which caused Newt to smile.

 _I was so happy to hear from you so soon, we hadn't expected a letter from you for at least another week._

 _Thank you so much for letting me know about Credence. Tell him that, of course, he can write to me, and I've also included a letter for him, as well. I'm looking forward to hearing about his progress. How did his meeting with your professors go?_

 _How are you doing, Newt? Have you been able to hand in your manuscript yet? Thank you so much for the invite to England for your book promotions, and if you can let me know when they are, Queenie and I will do our best to make it to as many as possible._

 _After you and your case of creatures left, New York has seemed a little quiet, but the interrogations of Grindlewald are underway. And while I can't say anything here, I feel our team is getting some useful leads._

 _Queenie has found Jacob's bakery, though she's probably already explained everything in her letter. I'm really worried about her, Newt. I want my sister to be happy, but I'm terrified she's going to get arrested or worse if she keeps going to see Jacob. MACUSA kept tabs on him for a week or so after the 'event' and were satisfied that Jacob's mind had been sufficiently obliviated for him to no longer be an exposure risk. However, now he has his bakery, and his pastries are apparently shaped like your creatures (they really must have had an effect on him) I'm afraid that, sooner or later, a MACUSA member will spot them and realise Jacob's memory is still, at least partially, intact._

 _And Queenie will be heartbroken again._

 _She's told me her plans of moving to England once Jacob's got his memory back. She has it all planned in her mind. She's such an optimist, and I wish I could share that positivity, but questions and worries keep flooding my mind._

 _What if Jacob never gets his memory back?_

 _Jacob has only just opened his dream bakery, what if he doesn't want to move to England?_

 _What if MACUSA find out before they can leave, and they're both arrested?_

 _What if they can't find a home in England?_

 _What if I never see my sister again?_

 _I know you say that worrying makes you suffer twice, Newt, but I've been taking care of Queenie since we were kids and I'm terrified for her. I want her to be safe, but she'll never really be happy unless she can be with Jacob. I may not have my sister's gift, but she is still my little sister, and I know her well._

 _I'm sorry, Newt, I didn't mean to unload everything in this letter. It's just wonderful to be able to write to you, you know?_

 _How are your creatures, by the way? Dougal, Pickett, the niffler? You said that Credence was helping you with them, and I'm glad to hear he seems to be doing well. I can't think of anyone better to help him than you, Newt. You help so many who need it._

 _I look forward to hearing from you, Newt. If there's any information you can give Queenie regarding her move to England, could you please let her know?_

 _Yours truly,_

 _Tina Goldstein._

Newt lowered Tina's letter slowly, reading through it once again.

Tina's worry for Queenie was clear to see, and Newt could sympathise, remembering that the two of them had only each other since they were orphaned as children.

He was gratified that she seemed pleased to hear from him, and looked forward to his reply, endeavouring to do so as soon as possible.

However, the paragraph concerning Grindlewald concerned him. Was Tina one of the Aurors in charge of his questioning? Newt hoped not. He could see Tina being asked to take part, as she had been instrumental in discovering his masquerade as Percival Graves, but Newt knew that could also make her a target for Grindlewald's revenge if he ever managed to escape. Which, Newt was certain, would happen sooner or later, considering Grindlewald's record.

A glance at the clock told Newt it was time to give his creatures their first feed of the day, and moved to get his case, scooping up all the letters as he did so.

Newt knew, he would have been welcome to stay with his parents, and knew his mother in particular would at least expect a visit now that he was back home, but he had missed his small, London flat, while he'd been away, and knew explaining Credence's story would be difficult. He hadn't told his parents anything about New York, and his brother, Theseus still believed Credence to be dead. Hoping to ensure Credence's safety by keeping it that way, Newt was happy for Credence to stay with him, for now. But, as Newt's flat only had the one bedroom, Credence was sleeping in a small cot Newt had made up for him, down in the shed of the suitcase, which the young American had appeared more than happy with.

As Newt made his way down into his case, he found Credence already awake, sitting on the stairs leading from the shed, watching the creatures stirring in the new morning light, seeming deep in thought.

"Morning, Credence," Newt greeted.

"Good morning," Credence replied automatically, getting to his feet eagerly. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well," Newt considered, using his wand to organise all the equipment and feed required, "if you could take care of the mooncalves, Dougal and the niffler, before checking the diricawl, fwooper and doxy feeders, that should be enough to start with.

Nodding, Credence set about getting to work.

"Oh, by the way," Newt held up the letters, "these arrived this morning, from New York." He held out two envelopes. "These are for you," he told him.

Slowly, as if afraid Newt would take them away, Credence accepted his letters.

"You can read them now, if you like," Newt offered, seeing if fair, as he'd already read his own. "Or, you can wait to read them later. Your choice."

Staring at the letters, Credence was highly tempted to read them immediately. But, as Newt left the shed, he realised he still wanted to show Newt that he could help him with the creatures. That he was worth keeping around. Newt had accepted him, taken him in and helped him begin to control his magic, the least Credence could do, he figured, was to try and help him with his creatures.

And Credence had enjoyed taking care of them, he admitted to himself. Seeing the playful mooncalves, having Dougal trail him around the case curiously, and watching all the different animals in their respective habitats filled Credence with a wonder he couldn't remember ever experiencing.

And he didn't want that to go away.

Placing the two envelopes carefully on the small cot he'd made up neatly that morning, Credence picked up the feed buckets and followed Newt out the shed door.

As Credence walked around the different habitats, he often observed Newt out of the corner of his eye as he worked. The gentle man treated all of his creatures with the same kindness and empathy he treated Credence, and he wondered at how rare such a person was, to have such a level of compassion for others.

Eager to do Newt proud, Credence got to work.

~..~..~..~..

"Well done, Credence," Newt complimented as he inspected the feeders, to find they'd been cleaned and filled to a good standard. "How were the mooncalves this morning?" he asked.

"Everyone got their share," Credence stated surely, feeling a flush of pride build in his chest at Newt's approval.

"Good," Newt smiled, as he helped Credence put everything away.

"Listen," Newt began carefully, sitting on the wooden bench by the shed. "I need to go into the Ministry this morning to find out a few things for Queenie- Tina's sister-, before I hand in my manuscript to my publisher." Newt studied Credence's face carefully. "Would you like to come with me, or stay here? I could give you a tour of London, this afternoon, if there's time before your class tonight, to help you get your bearings," Newt offered.

"Though I should warn you," Newt cautioned before Credence opened his mouth. "If you do come with me to the Ministry, it would be the equivalent of you walking into MACUSA. No one outside myself, your professors, Tina and Queenie, know your still alive, Credence. I haven't even told my brother, and he's the Head of the Auror department at the Ministry. Truth is," Newt admitted, "I have no idea what my brother would do if he knew you were alive. And so, I think it would be safer if most people thought you were dead, until you can prove to them how much you've learnt to control your magic."

Credence swallowed.

"I don't want you to be afraid to leave the case, Credence," Newt assured him. "I just think it would be easier to show people like Madam Piquery and my brother that you're not a threat, once you've had a few more classes. And London is your home, now," Newt reminded him. "I want it to feel that way, to you. I want you to feel safe here."

"Would it be alright if I walked around London by myself?" Credence asked, taking Newt by surprise. "I used to walk around New York all the time. It was nice, being able to get out of the house."

"If you're sure," Newt told him. "Though I thought you'd be uncomfortable, walking around a strange place on your own. You might get lost."

Credence shook his head. "I've got a good memory," he told Newt. "And I can go to a bank and get my American money exchanged."

"Yes," Newt nodded. "And I'll need to take you to Diagon Ally, a wizarding street," he explained, "to get you a vault at Gringotts Bank as well."

"Alright," Credence nodded, eager to see more of the wizarding world.

"Well, we have a lot to do, better get started," Newt announced, leading the way out of the case.

Newt locked his case securely before passing Credence a key to his flat.

"Now, I should hopefully have everything completed in time to take you to your evening class tonight," Newt said as he led the way down the stairs. "Do you want to walk with me to the entrance, at least?" He asked, concerned about leaving Credence on his own in a strange country. "It could help you have a starting point?"

"Yes, thank you," Credence nodded, and off they went, Credence studying the buildings and street signs near Newt's flat so as to commit them to memory.

As in Hogwarts, Newt was an enthusiastic tour guide, pointing out everything from where the muggle banks were, to Kensington gardens, where Newt had discovered a litter of half-kneazle kittens when he was twelve. They passed the Leaky Cauldron, the place where Newt told Credence they'd go, to get to Diagon Ally.

"If I'm not around, Credence, and you need any help that has to do with the wizarding world, even if it's to send an owl," Newt assured him, "go see the inn keeper, and he can get you through to Diagon Ally."

Eventually, Newt led Credence down an out of the way side street, down the side of a large, recently opened shopping centre. Newt led them to a plain side door, that looked like a security entrance, but Credence was confused at the lack of door handle.

"Okay, this is the side entrance to the Ministry," Newt explained. "I don't like using the main entrance." He turned to see Credence, his eyes bright with a mixture of fear and curiosity as his body habitually tried to hunch over, trying to shrink.

"You sure you don't want to come and see inside?" Newt asked, anxious about letting Credence out of his sight, much like his regard for Pickett, who was currently riding in his front pocket.

"It's not safe," Credence reminded Newt, and sighing, Newt had to nod.

"Well then," Newt took Credence's hand with a smile. "Enjoy your day sightseeing. And are you sure you know the way back to the flat?"

"I can find it," Credence nodded. "I used to walk around New York all the time."

"Alright," Newt nodded. "And you have the key for the flat?" He pressed.

Credence placed a hand over his pocket in answer.

"Good," Newt swallowed. "Well then, I'll see you this afternoon, Credence. Your class starts tonight at six o'clock, so just make sure you're home before then, alright? I'll apparate us there."

"Thank you, Newt," Credence told him gratefully. "See you this afternoon."

Nodding, Newt tapped his wand on the door and it opened to reveal an elevator. Climbing in, a metal gate clanged shut behind him.

"Name and destination," a cool female voice stated.

"Newt Scamander. Magical Creatures Department." Newt spoke clearly, and soon, the elevator began to descend.

Newt looked up at Credence, still standing on the footpath, watching him, and felt a strange twinge of worry in his chest. He'd left the boy alone in a strange country, to fend for himself for the day.

Still, Newt considered, giving one last wave before he fell out of sight, Newt himself had been in much the same situation upon arriving in New York.

Maybe Credence will do well from today, he thought.

Well, he wouldn't know until tonight, Newt reminded himself. So, no point worrying. It was time to focus on the issues at hand: Pop into the magical beasts division, to let them know he was back from his travels, stop by the Muggle relation department to get the information for Queenie, and then stop by Obscurus books to deliver his manuscript.

He really wished he could have simply posted his manuscript off to Mr Worme, but his publisher had insisted he bring his manuscript in person, so as to reduce the risk of someone intercepting it. A reason which sounded mildly absurd to Newt- who'd want to steal a manuscript on magical Creatures? But still, he was a mere employer, and had to do as he was told, sometimes.

"Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," the elevator announced as it came to a stop, and soon, Newt was back in the hustle and bustle of the Ministry of Magic.

~..~..~..~..

Credence travelled along the footpath, his eyes scanning the London streets around him as he tried to avoid making eye contact with people. It wasn't so different to New York, he mused. There were tall buildings, though many of them appeared to be quite old, some were even made with stone, and there were lots of people walking around, focused on where they were going.

But there just seemed to be more colour than in New York, Credence thought. New Yorkers often dressed in monochrome colours of black, white, brown or grey, whereas many of the people surrounding him wore flashes of colour: A blue and white striped tie here or a pink handbag there, which gave the whole city an almost softer look.

As Credence paused at a street corner to orientate himself, his eyes were drawn to a florist's shop across the road from him, painted a soft, rose pink.

A young woman dressed in green exited the store, holding a basket of mixed flowers, and began offering them to passers-by.

"A flower for your Lady, Sir?" She called to a gentleman who passed by without a glance.

"Flowers for your table, ma'am?" She called to a woman walking passed, who shook her head with a smile.

"Flower for the little princess?" She asked a little girl in a grey dress, who was pulled away by her mother.

Straightening up, the woman shook her light brown hair out of her eyes, before noticing Credence, and she smiled, giving a small wave.

Confused, Credence looked around, wondering who she was waving to. When he glanced back, she seemed to giggle, and gave another wave, this time slower, looking right in Credence's direction.

Slowly, Credence raised his hand, returning the wave hesitantly.

Beaming, the woman bobbed a cheeky curtsey, before returning to her work.

"A flower for your Lady, Sir?"

Credence slowly lowered his hand, marvelling. He'd usually be able to walk the streets of New York, practically invisible. No one had ever really paid him much attention, unless it was to call him a name.

But he was far away from New York, now, he reminded himself. And here, in England, a young woman had smiled at him on the street.

Credence cast his mind back and realised that, yes, this also seemed to be a first.

Something had caught the attention of the young woman in green, and, shifting slightly, Credence spotted a small kitten meandering along the footpath in front of the flower shop, heading towards the street.

A couple of passing cars blocked Credence's vision for a moment and all he heard was a car horn and a squeal of tires. Credence stepped forward, concerned, and as he once again got a view of the other side of the street, he saw the woman on the road, holding a hand out to signal a car to stop as she scooped up the kitten.

"Thank you," she called to the driver as she trotted back onto the footpath, depositing the kitten in her flower basket.

As the car resumed its journey, Credence made his way carefully across the road to the flower shop.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

The woman looked up.

"Sorry?"

"You nearly got hit by a car," Credence reminded her. "Are you alright?"

"Oh," realisation dawned, and she placed a hand on her chest. "Well, my heart is still racing a bit, but," she picked up her basket triumphantly, "the kitten is safe."

"You risked getting hit by a car to save a kitten?" Credence asked, surprised.

"I'll take her to the animal shelter I work at, once my shift here finishes," the woman continued, scratching the tortoiseshell kitten around the ears, eliciting a loud purr.

"Animal shelter?" Credence asked, curious.

"Oh, it's just a block or so away," the woman explained, pointing. "I work there twice a week. We take in stray animals and try to help them find a home."

'Sounds like Newt,' Credence thought.

"Oh, my name's Willow, by the way," she introduced herself. "Willow Arden. And you are?"

"Credence Barebone," he replied. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Arden."

"Pleasure's all mine," Willow smiled, tilting her head inquisitively. "Credence Barebone," she repeated thoughtfully. "That's an unusual name."

"Well," Credence figured it was fitting term, "I'm an unusual person." He ducked his head. What name would she call him now?

But Willow looked at him understandingly.

"That's actually a good thing, you know," she told him quietly. "I'm glad to hear it."

Credence raised his eyes, uncomprehending.

"What do you mean?"

Willow simply shrugged.

"Who can pride themselves on being ordinary?" She asked, before tilting her head again. "Forgive me, but, your accent…" she began hesitantly, "are you American?"

"Yes," Credence answered. "Well, I'm from New York," he amended. "But I've just moved here, to England."

"Really?" Willow appeared delighted. "I visited New York last year. Are you staying here, in London?"

"Yes, I'm staying with a friend of mine," Credence stammered, keeping his eyes low.

Nodding, Willow reached into her basket, and pulled out a small, white rose bud, blushed with pink.

"Welcome to England, Mr Barebone," she said offering it to him.

Hesitantly, Credence reached out for the rose.

"I don't have any English money yet," he admitted, pausing with his hand in mid-air.

Willow glanced back into the flower shop before turning back to him with a smile.

"Call it a welcoming gift," she assured him, offering the rose bud again.

Carefully, Credence accepted it, his fingers unable to avoid brushing hers, and Willow gave him another smile in way of farewell before heading back inside the shop.

Gazing after her, Credence watched as Willow placed the flower basket on a shelf before extracting the kitten. After speaking quietly to another girl, standing behind the counter, who gave the kitten a pat, Willow tried to quickly cross the room. She got stopped halfway to a back door by a plump man in his fifties, who appeared to be the store owner, and now appeared to be explaining why she had brought a kitten into the shop. Raising her free hand in a placating gesture, Willow nodded in assurance before grabbing an empty flower box and heading to the back. Before going through the door, though, she looked back and saw Credence.

This time, Credence raised his hand first, albeit shyly. Smiling, Willow bobbed another curtsy, before disappearing into the back room

Credence slowly backed away from the window before turning to make his way along the street, his fingers holding the rosebud carefully as he tried to figure out what had just happened.

A girl had given him a flower.

This was definitely another first, he realised, and couldn't help the small, bemused smile that tugged at his mouth. So many firsts, in such a short amount of time…

'I think, maybe, I'm going to like England,' he thought.

~..~..~..~..

Tina had never liked hospitals. Ever since her parents died when she was a girl, it was a place that always reminded her of illness and death. And as she was escorted through the corridors of the local magical hospital by an attendant, it seemed like hours before she was shown into a large room, which looked too comfortable, to Tina's eyes, to belong in a hospital.

It looked similar to a hotel room, with a couch, a cheerful painting of a seascape on one wall and a vase of long daffodils sitting on a table. The only giveaway that the room belonged to a hospital was the metal bed with raised sides, in which the recovering Mr Graves sat up, a blanket pulled up as high as possible to cover a green hospital gown. A copy of today's newspaper lay on his lap.

Tina remembered Mr Graves as a handsome, dark haired wizard, approaching early middle age, and while he still held that quality, his ordeal as a captive of Grindlewald had clearly taken its toll. He was pale and drawn, with circles under his eyes, like he'd been kept somewhere dark, without much access to sunlight or proper food.

He was currently staring out the window, overlooking the city, He had a spectacular view: you could see all the way out to the harbour, where the Statue of Liberty stood proudly in the distance.

Madam Piquery was clearly trying to ensure her head auror was receiving the best care possible.

Tina cleared her throat nervously, causing the man's dark eyes to turn from the window to her.

"You asked to see me, Mr Graves?"

Percival Graves had always been a man of honour, dignity, and respect. And even unshaven, with his hair longer than Tina had ever seen it, sitting on a metal bed in a hospital gown, as his eyes found hers, Tina realised Mr Graves still carried that same aura.

"Auror Goldstein," Mr Graves gestured to the chair beside his bed. "Thank you for coming. Please sit down." He dismissed the aide who had escorted her with a quick nod in gratitude.

"I'd like to firstly apologise for my appearance," Mr Graves began as she took her seat. "Medi-wizards have been so focused on my body weight, my organ functions and my blood, they forget about something simple like a shaving spell, or just a simple shaver."

"You're alive, Sir," Tina spoke up. "And I can't tell you how relieved we all are, for that. It's more than anyone could have hoped for, considering the circumstances. There's no need to apologise, sir."

"Perhaps," Graves admitted. "But I feel there may be multiple things I should apologise for, that Grindlewald did in my name." Studying the young auror seated next to him, Percival Graves noticed her stiffen slightly, avoiding his eyes.

"There is, isn't there?" Graves pressed. "I've been told that Grindlewald had been trying to protect an obscurus in the subway, just before he was revealed." He studied her expertly as she raised her eyes. "I was told that you also tried to protect it."

"Him," Tina corrected without thinking, flinching slightly at her impulse.

Realising his tactlessness, Graves nodded. "Him," he amended quietly.

"And I was told there was another man, who helped capture him," Graves continued. "A foreigner?"

"Yes, Sir," Tina nodded. "His name is Newt Scamander, and he's just returned to England."

"Shame," Graves considered. "I would've like to thank him. Without him, I would have still been a prisoner." His eyes landed seriously on Tina.

"I want you to tell me everything that happened once Mr Scamander came to New York," he ordered.

"We did each give a testimony-" Tina began.

"Yes, thank you, and I have read them," Graves interrupted, his voice gentle, but a bite of impatience entered his tone. "But I want to hear a first-hand account from you, Goldstein. And don't leave out a thing," he added.

Taking a breath, Tina began with the bank she'd caught Newt trying to chase down his niffler.

"What were you doing there?" Graves interjected.

Haltingly, she told him about the Second Salemers, and Mary-Lou Barebone, then, realising she had lost her position as an auror, while Grindlewald had been impersonating Mr Graves, she then had to explain to how she'd ended up demoted in the first place.

Shame-faced, she couldn't meet her boss' eyes, but looked up as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You tried to protect someone who couldn't defend themselves, Tina," Graves told her. "Admittedly, you were highly unorthodox, and I'm not surprised you were demoted, but… you were trying to protect the boy," he reminded her. "It's a good thing that you care. People stop doing their jobs properly when they start only seeing it as a job," he added, before gesturing for her to continue.

So, after confirming that Mr Graves was serious when he said he wanted to hear everything, Tina told him her about her confrontation with Newt, realising he hadn't obliviated Jacob, taking Newt in, trying to take him to the Major Investigation Department before being dismissed by Madam Piquery, and heading down to the wand permit office.

Mr Graves frowned at this, but said nothing.

Tina continued, saying how Newt helped her avoid getting in trouble with Abernathy before 'Graves' had come down to check her story, and they realised the cases had been switched. She then detailed travelling to Jacob's apartment and finding the murtlap and Jacob. She tried to gloss over her argument with Newt regarding whether to keep Jacob for observation, but Graves insisted on hearing everything she could recount.

"It's easier to learn about a person, if you have as much detail as possible," he explained, before urging her on.

So, Tina told him of taking Newt and Jacob to the apartment she shared with her sister, answering Graves' questions about how Jacob reacted to seeing magic performed, and Newt's behaviour, before saying how she'd woken up to find both men had disappeared to chase down Newt's creatures themselves.

"A nomaj, tracking down magical creatures," Mr Graves was surprised, and maybe a little impressed at the gumption.

"I found them in central park, after just having caught one of Newt's beasts," Tina continued, her voice starting to become raw from talking now, and Graves poured her a glass of water from the jug beside his bed. She drank gratefully, and Graves asked for her to continue, hanging on her every word.

This was what Percival Graves liked about first-hand accounts, spoken by the people involved themselves. People would often miss things out when writing, and there was so much that could be said for things like voice tone, body language, and eye contact. Where they hesitate in the storytelling and where they became emotional or controlled.

And Graves was learning a lot more from Tina's account than he had from the written testimonies.

"I locked the case after they'd climbed back inside," Tina continued, and here, her voice began to shake. "I knew Newt had broken the law, and the fact that he'd run off with Jacob of his own accord only strengthened his crime, so I thought the right thing to do would be to take them in to MACUSA, again. I was determined to make Madam Piquery listen, this time."

"Keep going," Graves encouraged, and now, he watched as Tina swallowed, gripping the arms of her chair to keep her hands from shaking.

Then, she explained how she'd unknowingly walked in to an international council, how Madam Piquery had appeared to not recognise Newt, and the fact that Tina had brought him in the previous day and had been dismissed. She described how Newt had identified an obscurus as the murderer of Senator Shaw, their arrest and how Newt had begged for his creatures to remain unharmed.

Graves frowned, clasping his hands together.

"Go on, Auror Goldstein," he instructed, as Tina appeared to hesitate.

Tina gave the account in their cell, how Newt told that he'd known an obscurial in Sudan, and had failed to save her life.

She went on to explain the audience with 'Graves'. Here, Mr Graves wanted every single word and gesture she could remember. Tina did her best, explaining 'Graves' questions to Newt regarding Albus Dumbledore and how he'd found the dormant obscurus in Newt's case, saying 'it's useless without the host', and Newt's shock and disgust at what one could possibly want to use it for.

"So, he wanted the obscurus," Graves whispered, frowning slightly as he considered this. "Don't stop, Goldstein," he instructed firmly.

She told of how 'Graves' had then accused the both of them of treason, and sentenced them to immediate death, and how Newt had tried to defend her.

"Oh." Appalled, Percival ran his hands down his face. "And no one questioned it?"

"You're second in command, next to Madam Piquery," Tina reminded him. "No one would feel they had the right to. Grindlewald chose well," she admitted quietly.

"I'm so sorry, Tina," he told her emphatically, his eyes pleading. "I wouldn't do that. Not without sufficient evidence. Not without a proper investigation. Not without a confession."

"It wasn't you, Sir," Tina reminded him in assurance, her eyes forgiving. "And for that, I'm glad."

Slowly, Graves took a deep breath before nodding.

"Okay, tell me the next part," he invited. "How did you escape death?"

And so, Tina told of how Newt has used his creatures to help them escape, as he knocked out the guards. Pickett, to pick the lock on his cuffs, and the swooping evil to help her reach safety, before they ran, the swooping evil shielding them from magical attack as it took out the aurors trying to stop them.

"Wow," Graves was impressed. "Sounds like a guy to have around in a tough spot."

"Yes, sir," Tina agreed and Graves saw a softness to her smile, this time.

Graves nodded. "Keep going," he encouraged. "How did you get out?"

Tina explained how her sister had saved Jacob from getting his memory wiped before getting their wands and Newt's case from 'Graves' office and meeting them downstairs.

"You escaped in the case?" Graves asked, and Tina nodded.

"Wait a minute," Graves realised something. "How did your sister know where you were?"

"My sister is a legilimens, sir," Tina admitted warily and Graves' eyes grew wide. "She can hear my thoughts over a long distance and felt my fear."

Mr Graves stared at Tina for a long moment.

"I don't remember you mentioning that earlier in your story, or in your testimony," he stated slowly. "How many people at MACUA are even aware that she's a legilimens?"

Tina took a breath. "Not many," she admitted. "But my sister's merely an assistant, sir," she assured the head auror. "She spends most of the day just making coffee for people in meetings. She has a healer's heart, sir." Tina added quickly, as she could see Graves' mind working over having a legilimens at MACUSA. "My sister just wants to use her ability to help others, not 'catch the bad guy.' She's no investigator," Tina insisted. "People have tried to get her to see into other people's heads for them, and she's never liked using her ability like that. She doesn't like seeing people being mean to each other at the best of times, I don't want her to see true evil. So, while she is proud of her ability, I try to protect her where I can. And I am telling you," she finished firmly, "if you want to get a information out of a suspect, use veritiserum. It'll hold up more in court."

Graves studied Tina, smiling slightly.

"Your passion to protect others is clear to see, Auror Goldstein," he complimented. "What's your sister's name?" He asked.

Tina hesitated. She'd tried avoiding using her sister's name, in case Graves tried to find her to use her power to help with a suspect, and Tina knew Queenie wouldn't want to do that, if possible.

"I can always look her up on our staff list," Graves reminded Tina, raising a placating hand. "I promise: I'm just asking out of curiosity: so that next time I'm served coffee at a meeting, I know who to block my mind against."

Tina took another breath.

He was still her boss…

"Queenie," Tina answered cautiously. "Her name's Queenie."

"Queenie," Percival Graves nodded in understanding as he put the name to memory before settling back against his pillows once more.

"So, Queenie snuck you all out using Mr Scamander's case," Percival Graves returned them back to the narrative. "Clever. Then what?"

This was more difficult that Tina had originally thought. Swallowing, she told of how Newt had an invisible demiguise to capture, and how they'd gone to 'The Blind Pig' to ask the goblin Gnarlack for information, only to find that he'd tipped off MACUSA on their location.

"Never trust a Goblin," Graves muttered to himself before urging Tina on with a wave of his hand.

Using Gnarlack's information, Tina told of how they went to Macey's and discovered the demiguise 'babysitting' an occamy, and how they had to work together to trap it using an insect and a teapot.

"A teapot?" Graves repeated sceptically. "Seriously? How did he discover that?"

"I have no idea," Tina shrugged, laughing a little at the absurdity of it herself. "But one thing I learned, is that, when it comes to magical creatures: if Newt tells you to do something, you do it. And it worked," she stated, telling of how the occamy's ability to change size meant that it shrunk to fit into the small teapot, making it easier to capture.

"Extraordinary," Graves admitted. "He really knows his creatures, doesn't he?"

"Yes, sir," this time, Percival really saw a softness, almost admiration, in Tina's tone.

"Continue on, Auror Goldstein," he encouraged.

So, Tina had explained how, once all the creatures were back in the case, Newt's Thunderbird, Frank had set off a lightning storm, alerting them to a magical threat, and they'd left to find the most powerful obscurus Newt had ever heard of, wreaking havoc throughout the streets of New York.

"Don't leave out a single detail," Graves repeated leaning forward intensely.

So, Tina told of how Newt had been determined to try and save, what he knew to be, a tormented magical child, and had entrusted his creatures to Tina before leaping off the building.

And how she, in turn, passed the case to her sister before following Newt.

She told of how she'd caught up with Newt, who was taking cover behind a car, as the obscurus swirled above the subway, while 'Graves' had stood before it, admiring.

When Tina spoke of how the obscurial was, in fact, Credence, the abused boy she'd lost her job trying to protect, Graves let out a long breath. In the official reports, only the term 'obscurus' or 'obscurial' had been used, so for Tina to be able to give an actual name, seemed to really drive home that they were dealing with a young man who had suffered greatly.

But a young man that had killed, nonetheless.

Tina continued, telling of how she'd fought 'Graves' so as to give Newt time to enter the subway to help Credence.

"You fought against Grindlewald?" Graves repeated. "And you didn't die? I'm impressed, Goldstein."

"Thank you, Sir," Tina ducked her head, "though I think Grindlewald was more focussed on getting back to Credence. And he was still impersonating you," she reminded him. "How would it look for the head auror to have killed one of his staff?"

Graves considered this a moment, before gesturing her to continue.

So, Tina told of how MACUSA had turned up, creating a barrier around the subway, and how she'd snuck under before it closed, entering the subway to find Credence, in obscurus form, and Newt, being tortured by 'Graves', as each tried to reach out to the boy.

She spoke of how she'd tried to talk to Credence, to help him calm down. How the obscurus form had begun to slow, and how Newt had told her that Credence was listening to her.

Then Madam Piquery and the MACUSA auror team arrived, and, despite 'Graves' order not to attack, and Tina's pleading, the aurors simultaneously sent spells flying towards Credence until there was nothing left but fragmented, black tendrils, drifting through the air.

"Poor Credence," Graves whispered. "Still, I can understand Madam Piquery's order," he added in a logical fashion. "He'd killed a nomaj and was too uncontrollable."

"Credence could control his obscurus most of the time, that's how he survived for as long as he did," Tina countered. "He only lost control when he was under duress, such as: people threatening his life."

She sighed.

"He never even got a chance, growing up, to have the opportunity to learn to harness his power." Tina added pensively. "Think how much of a difference that could have made, had been able to go to school." Then she smiled, as she realised that Credence was finally getting the training he needed, and hoped Newt would write soon. She was dying to hear how he and Credence were doing and whether his book had the go ahead to be published.

"So, what happened after the obscurus was destroyed?" Graves asked, catching Tina's smile, and finding it out of place, but too eager to get to Grindlewald's capture to pay it any mind right now. Still, he filed it away for later consideration.

So, finally, Tina spoke of how 'Graves' had spoken to Madam Piquery of how their methods were not protecting wizards, but protecting the nomajes and how he wasn't going to continue to follow those laws. It was here that everyone appeared to realise Graves was not who he said he was, for Head Auror Percival Graves had always followed the letter of the law. Madam Piquery gave the order for Graves to be apprehended, and 'Graves' began duelling all the aurors all at once, and appeared to be winning, until Newt released his swooping evil once more, tied him up and Tina claimed his wand.

It was Newt who performed the 'revelio' spell.

"And I believe you know the rest, sir," Tina finished wearily. The recount had taken far longer than Tina had assumed, and her throat was sore from all the talking.

Percival Graves leaned back against the headboard, his eyes closed as he tried to commit as much of Tina's recount to his memory.

"Thank you, Auror Goldstein," Mr Graves said gratefully after a moment. "You have no idea how you've helped me today, but you certainly have."

"I'm happy to help, Sir," Tina replied slowly, wondering what extra information she'd given him had been so different from the written accounts to create that look of understanding on his face.

Footsteps alerted them to someone entering the room. Turning, Tina quickly got to her feet as the President of MACUSA herself entered the hospital room.

"Madam President," Mr Graves greeted. "Welcome to my torture away from the chamber."

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better, Mr Graves," President Piquery said patiently, "though I would hardly call a recovery room 'torture'."

"Of course it is," Mr Graves countered. "I've been stuck in a windowless room for six months, and now I'm out and find the city's gone to hell in a handbasket, and I'm not even allowed to get out of bed to help fix the problem."

Madam Piquery turned to Tina.

"Thank you for taking the time to speak with Mr Graves, Auror Goldstein," she told her, "you may return to your work."

"Yes Ma'am," Tina nodded.

"No, she stays," Graves countered, holding out a hand. "I want her to hear this."

Tina hesitated, unsure who to follow, which gave Graves the chance to continue.

"Madam President, I intend to return to work within the week," Graves began.

"You're entitled to-"

"Within the week," Graves continued, eyeing the President in determination. "I've always been a man of action, you know that, and sitting in bed is not going to make me better. What will make me better," he supplied, "is actually doing something about this situation we're in. And when I do get out," he continued, "I want Auror Goldstein on my team."

Tina felt her jaw drop in surprise.

"Miss Goldstein has only just been reinstated," Madam Piquery reminded Mr Graves, barely casting Tina a glance. "And while, I admit, her assistance in the apprehension of Grindlewald aided in her reclaiming her position, I believe she's still underqualified for-"

"She's completely qualified," Graves countered. "I admit, she's unorthodox, to the point of risking her job on many levels to do what she feels is right, but," he continued, "she has a strong moral compass and focuses on doing the right thing by her gut, not just the rule book. And you can't teach that sort of thing at the academy. That's the kind of auror I want on my team," Graves finished seriously.

Tina stood, in shock, hearing Mr Graves' words of praise.

Unbidden, the words of 'Graves' as she battled outside the subway came back to taunt her.

" _Tina,"_ he'd said, _"always turning up when you're not wanted."_

But here, Graves, the _real_ Auror Percival Graves, wanted her on his team so much he was arguing with the president of MACUSA.

Madam Piquery stood, contemplating.

"Very well, Mr Graves," she granted. "Auror Goldstein can be a part of your team once you've recovered. But only if you swear to recover for at least another week."

"Seriously?" Graves asked, sounding almost like a petulant teenager, which would have been amusing, if Tina had been brave enough to laugh.

"You have been through a terrible ordeal, Mr Graves," The president reminded him. "You can't recover from that kind of experience in just a couple of days."

Considering for a moment, Graves sighed.

"One week," he agreed. "That's it."

"We look forward to seeing you back at work, Mr Graves," Madam Piquery told him with a smile.

"Congratulations, Auror Goldstein," The president turned to Tina. "You've just been promoted."

Turning, the President left the room, satisfied that Mr Graves was recovering well.

"Thank you, Sir," Tina told Mr Graves gratefully. "But why…?"

"I see a lot of potential in you, Tina," he told her. "I hope you can live up to it."

"Oh, I promise, Sir," Tina assured him automatically. "I won't let you down."

"I hope not," Graves smirked. "I'm putting up with another week in this purgatory for you."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I'm sure some of you may be wondering why I had Tina go through a recount of, what is essentially, the 'Fantastic Beasts' movie, which I'm sure most of us here are familiar with, but I really wanted a chance to show the difference between what I feel the real Percival Graves would be like, as opposed to 'GrindleGraves' and it was his reactions and attention I wanted to show._

 _He wouldn't have made it to his station in MACUSA by being rebellious, but I felt that, while he would uphold the law in America to a high level, he was also a thorough investigator, who wanted to ensure he had all the facts possible before taking serious action._

 _I also wanted to show some of the more personal interactions between Newt and Credence, as it is in their interpersonal skills, I think, we'll see both Credence and Newt changing the most, as their confidence develops. After all, Newt has been used to being on his own for a year or so, and he's not very comfortable around people at the best of times, so I wanted to show Newt developing his ability to share his creatures, and his life with others._

 _Credence, as well, has always been such an internal person, and while he may always be shy, I really feel his confidence will certainly get a boost as he finds acceptance, first with Newt, then at Hogwarts, and then with the wizarding world in general._

 _I also thought to introduce Willow's character. I feel Credence may have developed a mentality of 'Magic good, Nomaj bad,' and wanted him to see that not all non-wizarding people are as close minded as those he encountered in New York._

 _Thank you for reading, please leave a review. I love feedback!_

 _Celino._


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: Hi everybody, here's part two! Hope you enjoy it._

~..~..~..~..

Newt unlocked his flat with a wave of his wand to find that Credence hadn't yet arrived back.

Hoping the boy hadn't got lost, wandering around the city, Newt decided that, as it was still early afternoon, he'd wait another hour or so before trying to find him.

Newt quickly placed his case on the ground and descended the ladder to check on his creatures.

He'd had a rather productive, if unexciting, morning. Newt had arrived at the ministry, only to be immediately called upon by his brother, who demanded to know more about the happenings in New York.

Newt had been as succinct as possible when it came to answering his brother's questions, and was doubly glad that Credence had decided not to accompany him, for Newt imagined Theseus would have arrested him on sight.

He could not, however, hide the smile on his face in time, when he spoke about the Auror, Tina Goldstein.

And Theseus, being Theseus, couldn't resist having a dig at his little brother.

"Holy Merlin, Newt," he exclaimed upon seeing the look his brother tried, too late, to hide. "You fancy her, don't you?"

Newt stammered, not wanting to lie, but unwilling to tell his brother the truth. Unfortunately, Theseus knew his brother well.

"Well," he smiled. "That explains the high compliments you gave in your letter."

"Is there something else you wanted, Theseus?" Newt asked, eager to leave. "Or are we done here?"

Theseus' expression softened.

"I'm happy for you, Newt," he told him sincerely. "I was worried that, after Leta…" seeing the look on Newt's face, Theseus quickly moved on. "I hope it works out, and look forward to meeting her, one day. Oh, by the way," he added, before turning to leave, "Mother's invited everyone over for Christmas dinner, and she has made it quite clear that she expects a visit, or, at the very least, a letter from you before then."

Newt sighed.

"I'll write to her as soon as I can," Newt assured his brother.

Now, here in the case, and having completed his routine checks of his creatures, Newt readied himself parchment and quill to compose his letters to his mother, Tina and Queenie, having been able to stop by the Muggle Relations department, where a cheerful secretarial witch had handed him a folder full of all the procedures and paperwork needed for obtaining an exemption for a muggle.

Deciding it would be easier to get his mother's letter out of the way first, he quickly dipped his slightly crumpled quill into the inkwell.

 _Dear Mother,_ he began.

 _I arrived home just yesterday and am very much glad to be back in England._

 _I look forward to showing you the creatures I've encountered throughout my year of travels, culminating in a trip to New York, which turned out to be considerably more exciting than I had expected._

 _I don't have enough parchment to tell you of every county I visited and every creature I've encountered, but I assure you, you will get an account next time I see you._

 _I handed in my manuscript to Obscurus Books today, and am just awaiting the final verdict before it goes ahead, though Mr Worme assures me that it should happen soon, perhaps after some minor editing. He's already scheduled in a meeting with Flourish and Blotts to help organise a promotional event._

 _Merlin, help me._

 _Theseus tells me you are organising a Christmas dinner. Thank you very much for the invite, though, to be honest, I have no idea what my schedule will be like at that time. It will depend, I suppose on what my publishers and editors think of my manuscript._

 _But I promise to let you know as soon as possible._

 _I do hope you and the hippogriffs are doing well, and I look forward to seeing you at the earliest opportunity, and please pass my regards along to Father._

 _Your Son,_

 _Newt._

Newt considered the letter and decided he was happy with it. It all sounded rather mundane and routine, which was good, as he didn't want to tell his mother yet about Tina and certainly not about Credence. Newt considered he would be the real reason that Newt may not be able to make Christmas dinner. He couldn't afford to let Credence near his brother, risking his secret being exposed. Not while he was still so new to his training.

Still, Newt felt he still wanted to make Credence's first Christmas in England a good one, and he was sure there was a way to do so without risking Credence's safety.

Then, an idea came into Newt's mind.

What if Credence spent his Christmas at Hogwarts? Some of Newt's best memories were of spending the holidays at the castle, and felt Credence deserved those same experiences.

Endeavouring to ask professor Dippet, and Credence, if they approved of the idea at Credence's class tonight, Newt placed his mother's letter aside before reaching for a clean piece of parchment.

 _Dear Queenie,_ he wrote.

 _I'm glad to hear Jacob's bakery is doing well. I'm really not surprised that he has some memories remaining, as the swooping evil venom is really only good for erasing bad memories. And I know Jacob did find many of his experiences with magic to be wonderful._

 _I must admit, I'm touched that my creatures appear to have had such a lasting effect, though I am not surprised that he still remembers you._

 _As requested, I visited our Muggle Relations department at the ministry and was given all the information required for applying for an exemption from the international Statute of Secrecy. You will find the information and paperwork enclosed, so you can come to England prepared._

 _I truly hope your endeavours to help Jacob go well. There is always room for another bakery here in London, and I hope to see you both again in the near future._

 _I appreciate your offer to help Credence as well, Queenie. Your skills as a legilimens could surely help him heal from the bad memories of his upbringing, which caused him to supress his magic._

 _Though I am pleased to announce that, while his training has only just begun, he is proving to be a fast and eager learner. Already, he can call his magic at will and while the results are sometimes unexpected, he is proving already that his control is growing. He's greatly looking forward to his next class, which I'll be taking him to, this evening._

 _I know you're worried about Tina, Queenie, but you know as well as I do, that Tina will always try to protect everyone she feels she can protect. And, as her sister, you would be Tina's top priority, I imagine._

 _Your idea of Tina moving to England with you appears a sound one. I would be more than happy to recommend her to my brother, if she wished to apply for a job with our ministry's Auror Department. He would be foolish to refuse her._

 _I do hope you are being careful, Queenie. Like Tina, I don't want you or Jacob getting into trouble. Best to make arrangements to move to England as soon as possible, so you can leave quickly when the time comes._

 _I do hope you and Tina are doing well and look forward to hearing from you soon._

 _Yours Friend,_

 _Newt Scamander._

Newt reread his letter before nodding, placing it with the folder from Muggle relations.

Now, for Tina…

Newt felt something akin to butterflies in his stomach as he held his quill over the parchment.

He wanted Tina to come to England, he realised. He wanted that very much.

But as she was currently focussed on worrying about Queenie, and the fact Grindlewald was a captive at MACUSA, Newt doubted she had the time to spare him a thought.

Still, Newt thought, she had said she'd like to see him again, and once more, the memory of her last smile at the docks in New York filled his mind, and he squared his shoulders.

 _Dear Tina_ , he began.

 _It was wonderful hearing from you so quickly, I just received your letter this morning._

 _I'm happy to tell you that Credence is doing well. In his first class last night, he was already demonstrating that he was a fast and eager student, and showed that he could channel his magic without activating the obscurus within him, even if the effect was unexpected. (His first attempt; he was meant to do a shield charm against a chair flying towards him, and he did a reducto curse instead.) He's being trained, not only my old Transfiguration professor, Albus Dumbledore, but also Hogwarts' new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, professor Batini imamu, who specialises in wandless magic, which Credence appears to have a knack for._

 _He is very much looking forward to his next class, which is tonight, and I'm going to see if Credence would be allowed to spend Christmas at Hogwarts, as I would dearly love for him to have the same experiences I had, whilst studying at the school. I think, to help him heal fully from the effects of his past, he needs to be shown he is accepted, and not 'othered' as he has been regarded his whole life before now. He's even been sorted into a Hogwarts house: Slytherin, for people known for their ambition. Belonging to a Hogwarts house, I believe is an important step, as for the wizards here in Britain, we all attended Hogwarts, and so our houses have a profound effect on our identity growing up, as I'm sure it did for you and Queenie, attending Ilvermorny._

 _Speaking of Queenie, she has informed me that she found Jacob's bakery and I'm glad to hear it's doing well. She also told me he remembers some things regarding magic, and I'm flattered to hear that some of his pastries take the shape of my creatures._

 _She's also told me of her determination to travel to England once Jacob's memory returns, and I have sent her a folder with all the information she needs regarding obtaining an exemption for the International Statute of Secrecy, for Jacob, once here._

 _I know you worry about your sister, Tina, but she also worries about you, being left behind in New York. She told me she suggested that you join them in their crossing to England, and I. for one, would be very happy if you did. I would gladly recommend you to my brother, who, as I've said, is Head of the Auror Department at our ministry. I have seen you working as an auror up close, you did arrest me, after all, and I can ascertain that you would be a great asset to his team._

 _My creatures are doing well, though I think Pickett misses you. He is currently on my shoulder, telling me to make sure I mention him in my letter to you. Hopefully this will satisfy him…_

 _It does._

 _As for my book, I've delivered it to my publisher today, and am awaiting the final verdict. It may need some editing before it goes ahead, but we'll see. Mr Worme, my publisher, is so certain that it will get the go-ahead that he's already organised a meeting with Florish and Blotts bookstore to organise a promotional event. I'll let you know when that is in due course, as I would love for you to be there._

 _I believe I've written enough for now, so I'll leave it here. I hope things are going well for you at work, and that they appreciate the kind of auror you are, Tina._

 _Yours Truly,_

 _Newt Scamander._

Newt went over his letter. Unsurprisingly, it was the longest. Had he sounded too eager? He re-read it again. No, he didn't think so, just supportive. That was it. After all, he told himself, if she felt he didn't want her to come, she'd be less likely to, right?

Swallowing, he placed her letter down as a knock on his case alerted him to a visitor.

Opening the case, Newt discovered Credence was back, appearing more relaxed than he'd seen him.

"Credence, welcome back," Newt greeted as he climbed up into his living room. "How did it go around London?"

"I liked it," Credence said, fiddling with a rose stem in his hands. "I was able to go to a bank and get my American money exchanged."

"Good," Newt eyed the rose, and wondered about whether he should ask. Finally, he couldn't hide the curiosity. "And where did you get that?"

Credence ducked his head.

"It was a present," he admitted slowly. And Newt could swear there was a slight blush to his cheeks.

"Did a girl give you that?" He asked, curiously.

"She worked at a flower shop," Credence said by way of explanation.

Newt raised his eyebrows. On his first day in London… Newt looked amused as he locked his case securely, but decided it best not to comment.

"I don't have any vases," Newt told Credence, "but you should put that in water soon. There are some tall glasses in that cupboard there," Newt pointed to the kitchen and Credence moved quickly, avoiding Newt's eyes.

"Listen," Newt proposed. "I've got to post a couple of letters, so would you like to come to Diagon Ally with me before your class? We have time." Newt gestured to the clock.

"Yes," Credence answered automatically. "I'd love to. Thank you."

"We can see about getting you an account at Gringotts bank," Newt added as an afterthought.

"Are you sure I can?" Credence queried as they readied to leave. "I asked at the bank today, and they said I couldn't as I wasn't an British citizen yet."

"Gringotts is international," Newt supplied before hurrying them out the door.

~..~..~..~..

Tina arrived home from work that day to find Queenie packing a large suitcase and her heart leaped into her throat.

"What's going on, Queenie?" she asked, worriedly. but Tina already had an idea what was going to come out of her sister's mouth.

"Jacob got his memory back," Queenie explained, confirming Tina's suspicions.

"How?" She queried, still reeling from the shock. It wasn't supposed to happen this quickly…

"I kissed him," Queenie explained hesitantly, causing Tina's head to snap up in surprise. "It was the last thing that happened before his memory got wiped, so I guess, it helped trigger everything. Oh, please don't be scared, Tina," Queenie hurried over to hug her sister tightly. "This is just happening faster than I thought, is all. It'll still take a few days."

"What's your plan?" Tina asked, eyeing all the clothes Queenie had strewn across her bedroom.

"Well," Queenie began. "Jacob's gonna sell his bakery and get those occamy shells back from the bank, so he has something to start off with in England. I've already sent my letter of resignation in to work. I'm going to go to our nomaj bank and withdraw the money from my account, and then Gringotts to organise for everything to be sent over to England. I'm just sorting through my clothes, trying to decide what to keep and what to sell, or give away," she turned to Tina. "Do you want any of it?"

Tina shook her head, knowing she could never look as beautiful as Queenie in these clothes.

As she stood there, memories of her and her sister flooded through her mind. Their days after mom and pop died…their years at Ilvermorny…the time when they first moved in together, here in their brownstone apartment… and the little things as well. Queenie humming to herself as she cooked in the kitchen, or coming home with a beautiful new dress she found on sale…her radiant smile and the way she smelled of rose oil.

Tina was never going to experience any of that again…

"Oh, Teenie, honey," Queenie wrapped her sister in a hug once more and it was only then Tina realised she'd started crying. "We'll still see each other. And remember, you can always come with us."

"But that's just it, Queenie," Tina sobbed. "I can't."

Queenie studied her sister thoughtfully before smiling.

"You got a promotion today? Teenie, that's great!" Tina could tell her sister was sincerely happy for her which, in truth, only solidified her misery.

"But that's why I can't go with you," Tina told her. "I can't be accepted on a team, only to turn around and say I'm going to England."

"It's okay, Tina," Queenie hugged her again. "I'm so happy for you. You've always been the career girl, and now, you have the chance to pursue that."

"And you've always been a free spirit," Tina told her sister fondly. "You go where life takes you, and now's your chance to continue with that."

Squeezing her sister tightly one last time before stepping back, Queenie wiped her eyes.

"Okay," she smiled. "I can sort out my clothes later. How about I start on dinner?"

"We'll both cook," Tina countered. "Together."

"Together, Queenie nodded.

~..~..~..~..

Credence was wide eyed as Newt led him through Diagon Ally. Graham, the barkeep, had been a jovial man, and had been more than happy to tell Credence that if he ever needed to get through the door way, simply to stop by and ask him.

Newt watched, smiling, as Credence examined everything around him with wonder, his eyes hungry and yearning as he looked at all the shops and magical merchandise.

"You're a part of this world, now Credence," Newt reminded him gently. "You're one of us, now, as you were meant to be." And he was rewarded as the young man gave a true smile, as his eyes explored his surroundings.

Newt showed him the way to the post office, where he sent his three letters, before leading the way to Gringotts bank, where Credence got his first look at a goblin.

"Uh, Newt…" Credence began nervously as they walked through the doors, his eyes running over the strange, diminutive creatures with their clever faces and long fingers and feet.

"These are goblins, Credence," Newt answered his unspoken question. "There as clever as they come, but are not overly fond of wizards, or humans in general, really. They're experts in precious gems and metals, which is why they're in charge of our banks. However," he turned to his companion to caution, "any interaction you have with a goblin, especially if it involves any form of payment or trade, must be entered into with great care."

Approaching a counter, Newt explained that Credence was there to open a new account.

"Identification?" The goblin asked imperiously, his black eyes studying Credence with suspicion.

Hands shaking, Credence retrieved his passport and handed it over.

Casting an expert eye over it, the goblin seemed to sniff derisively at the muggle artefact before waving a hand over the document, causing it to glow momentarily. Credence longed to ask what he was doing, but a glance at Newt made him think it would be wiser to stay silent.

'I'm not supposed to be alive,' he reminded himself. 'And someone who had grown up in this world wouldn't be surprised.'

"This appears genuine," the goblin finally announced. "How much would you like to put in to your account?"

Credence pulled out his new wad of English pound notes, causing the goblin to raise an eyebrow.

Keeping a portion for daily use, Credence handed the rest over.

"The exchange rate is good at the moment," the goblin commented, but the boredom in his voice differed from the intensity of his eyes. "One moment please."

It was a tense time as Newt stood with Credence at the counter. He had never liked waiting, and kept a firm hand on his case, just on the chance his niffler fancied another escape.

Eventually, the goblin came back, with a sack full of money, and Credence's eyes widened.

"Would you like to withdraw any out now?" The goblin asked. "Before it goes into your vault?"

"Yes please," Credence said, then realised he didn't know how much he should keep.

Thankfully, Newt came to his rescue.

"Twenty galleons should do, for now," he spoke up, pointedly and Credence nodded.

"Twenty galleons," he repeated, wondering what a galleon was.

Twenty large gold coins were placed in a smaller, separate bag for Credence along with a key engraved with 357.

"Your vault key. Don't lose it," The goblin explained before handing him a piece of parchment. "Sign here." Credence did so and the document was stamped before being magically duplicated. Credence was handed one, along with his money bag and key, while the second was rolled up and flew across the bank hall to what Newt assumed was the archives, while Credence's money was trundled off by another goblin to place in his new vault.

"Thank you for your business," the goblin said by way of farewell and Newt thanked him before taking Credence gently by the arm to lead him outside.

"What are galleons?" Was Credence's first question as they walked down the stairs.

"Wizard money," Newt explained. "The gold ones. Then you've got the silver sickles and the bronze knuts." Newt glanced at his watch. "We've just over an hour before your class starts," he informed Credence. "Do you want to have a look around the shops, maybe buy yourself something?"

"Really?" Credence had to admit, he'd never really been shopping. His mother, being a puritan, had emphasised a very frugal lifestyle, and never bought anything that was not essential.

But he was on his own, now, Credence reminded himself. And this was his money, he now held. He could do what he wanted with it.

"Can I get a wand?" Credence asked, spying a shop titled 'Olivander's'.

"If you like," Newt thought that, while Credence was strong enough to not really need one, like professor Imamu, he felt that buying a wand would help solidify Credence's place in the wizarding world.

A bell over the door jangled as they entered the shop, and Newt and Credence both stood, uncomfortable, until they heard footsteps approaching.

"Ah, Newt Scamander," Mr Olivander greeted as he came into view. "Eleven inches, ash, unicorn tail hair and a handle of shell and mother of pearl, if I remember correctly."

"Yes, Sir," Newt nodded, as always, he was amazed at how Mr Olivander could memorise each wand individually.

"How can I help you two gentlemen today?" He asked, eying the young man standing by Newt.

"My friend Credence needs a new wand," Newt gestured to his companion.

"Indeed?" Olivander's pale eyes studied Credence carefully. "And what happened to your old one?"

"It broke," Credence answered, remembering the wand he'd seen his Ma snap.

"American?" Olivander queried, stepping closer. "Well, this should certainly be a challenge. They use different cores in the States, but I imagine," he continued proudly, "that you will find my wands more than worthy. Now let's see," Olivander continued to study Credence, his tone more business-like. "Which is your wand arm?"

"I'm right handed," Credence stammered.

"Very well, let's get some measurements," and Mr Olivander had his tape measure float forward, measuring the length of Credence's shoulder to finger-tip, then shoulder to wrist, then wrist to finger-tip, all while he began searching through his shelves of small, rectangular boxes, gathering several possibilities.

"It's always interesting, giving an adult wizard a new wand," Olivander conversed as he worked. "The wand chooses the wizard of course, and who we are as children are not necessarily who we are as adults. Now, let's see which wand will choose you."

Eventually, he returned to the pair and, with a click of his fingers, the measuring tape fell to the ground. Depositing the pile of boxes he'd collected on a small chair, Ollivander selected a likely first candidate.

"I went through about twenty wands before I got mine," Newt said aside to Credence. "So, don't be discouraged if it takes a while."

"Oh, I hope it takes a while," Mr Olivander spoke up eagerly as he opened the first box. "I love a tricky customer. Here, hornbeam, ten and a half inches, with unicorn tail hair."

Credence accepted it eagerly.

"Give it a wave," Newt encouraged, but Credence had barely lifted it before Olivander had snatched it back.

"Nope, not working," he announced with a smile. "Here: Ebony and dragon heart string. Twelve inches."

Credence flicked it, only to cause a glass vase to shatter.

"Definitely not," Olivander granted as Newt repaired the vase with a flick of his own wand before Credence could apologise.

They worked through the pile on the chair quickly and so Olivander had to gather a new assortment of wands for Credence to try.

"Oak and Phoenix feather," he offered. "This one has a quartz crystal in the handle."

Credence waved it, sending boxes flying through the air in all directions.

"We're getting closer!" Mr Ollivander called excitedly, rushing to the back of his shop. "Very interesting. I think I've got some good ones back here."

"Here we are," Mr Olivander came back, his arms full of boxes that appeared covered in dust. "I made these a long time ago, very unusual designs," he announced as he placed the boxes on the chair. "I so hoped to sell one someday…" His hands were practically shaking with excitement as he handed over the first wand.

"Redwood and dragon heart string, studded with a raw ruby," he offered it to Credence, who tried it, only to have Ollivander take it back.

"Not quite," Ollivander observed. "But closer…"

Casting his eyes over Credence carefully, who by now was beginning to worry if there would ever be a wand for him, Ollivander seemed to nod. Carefully extracting a box from the pile, he opened it.

"Willow," he whispered. "Eleven inches, with a phoenix feather core and an obsidian handle. Unusual combination," he admitted. "But very powerful."

Credence accepted it, and closed his eyes as a feeling of warmth seemed to spread through him. Sweeping it through the air, Credence marvelled as blue and red sparks flew from his wand, filling up the room like a fireworks display.

"Oh, well done!" Ollivander cheered as Newt applauded. "How unusual."

"What is, Sir?" Credence asked.

"Wands are usually made of a special wand-wood, with a magical core, to help focus your power," Ollivander explained. "When a wand requires additional input to harness, direct or control magic, I use precious minerals, for each has a particular effect. Mother of pearl, for instance," he gestured to Newt's wand, "is a powerful healing mineral, also said to help increase tolerance. So, it is no real surprise that Newt has become such a healer, of nature, as he even carries nature with him, in the seashell included in his wand. A wand can you tell a lot about its owner." The wand-maker studied Credence with fascination.

"Now, your wand, Credence, is very interesting," Ollivander explained as he began putting away all the rejected wands back on their shelves. "Willow is a highly magical wood, and was used in the creation of some of the earliest wands of wizard kind. Interesting fact:" he added cheerfully, "the word 'willow' and 'witch' actually have the same root dialect. The willow is a very twistable, bendable tree, and a powerful witch, or wizard, is said to be able to bend and twist their reality with their magic. The willow tree is also highly regenerative, healing quickly once cut, and so willow represents healing as well as protection. So, to combine willow with a phoenix, which dies and is reborn, only strengthens the healing and protective properties of the wand."

"The obsidian in the handle, however," Ollivander continued, lost in his passion for wandlore, yet Newt and Credence were listening attentively, "that's where it gets interesting. Obsidian is created through volcanic eruptions, so helps deal with emotions that are buried deep within us. Being born of fire, obsidian brings a strong sense of determination to overcome past fears and traumas, as well as helping to neutralise excess energy."

Credence swallowed as Mr Ollivander's pale eyes met his dark ones and Credence suddenly had the suspicion that the wand-maker knew he was an obscurial.

"I think this wand will help you greatly," Mr Ollivander placed the wand box in his hands.

Credence paid five galleons for his wand silently, and Mr Ollivander bowed them out of the shop.

"Well, that was interesting," Newt spoke up after a moment. "Congratulations, Credence, you have your very own wand!" He smiled. "You're truly one of us now."

Seeing the young man was deep in thought, most likely regarding what Mr Ollivander had said regarding his wand, Newt looked at the time. "We still have half an hour," Newt considered, "so I want to show you something."

Newt led them over to the magical menagerie, where an assortment of owls stood on display. Inside, cats and kittens of all colours were playing or sleeping in designated areas and a large cage filled with what looked like tiny balls of custard-yellow fluff, called puffskeins, stood in one corner.

"You got your 'welcome to England' present from that muggle girl today, Credence," Newt began, pretending not to notice his slight blush. "You got yourself your own 'Welcome to the wizarding world' present, with your very own wand. Now I want to get you something as a welcome gift as well."

Credence's head shot up.

"You don't have to," he said quickly. Newt allowing him a place to stay and letting him help with his creatures was more than enough.

"I know," Newt told him gently. "But I want to." Newt had the feeling Credence hadn't been given many things from his family in New York. He gestured to all the animals on display. "Pick any one you like."

Credence cast his eyes over all the animals, apparently lost.

"Puffskeins make wonderful pets," Newt began, gesturing to the cage of fluffy creatures. "Very easy to look after, though they're difficult to hide from muggle attention. And," he admitted, "there's always the chance you'll wake up to their tongues probing up your nose."

Credence cringed at the thought, and Newt decided perhaps he'd prefer something more familiar to him.

"Now, our magical cats are truly unique," Newt explained, "there's a magical creature called a kneazle, which is cat-like, and yet is very good at recognising an unscrupulous person from a good person. I've actually enlisted a couple of kneazles at the ministry, to help with security, and they're very good at tailing suspicious people who come through. Kneazels can interbreed with house cats, and so you can get a cat that looks ordinary," Newt smiled at the cats for sale, "but is actually rather special."

Credence knelt down by an area where kittens were playing and appeared relieved when a couple ran right over to him, rubbing their cheeks against his hand.

"Or, you could get an owl," Newt suggested. "Many wizards have owls as they are very useful for sending post. And if you don't want to have to go to the post office all the time, it would help, when sending your letters to Tina and Queenie."

Credence walked over to the owls, and paused to admire a beautiful barn owl, it's round, white face seeming to glow in the dim light of the shop.

Credence had liked the half-kneazle kittens, but if most wizards had owls…he considered this as he also remembered that he still was presumed dead, and if he continued using public owls, would that make him easier to find?

A few minutes later, he and Newt walked out of the shop, Credence carrying his new barn owl, still awkwardly stammering his thanks.

"My pleasure," Newt ducked his head, unused to the gratitude, before they gently lowered the cage down into Newt's case for safety. "Now, I really think we'd better be getting you to class now."

Grabbing his arm, Newt disapparated.

~..~..~..~..

Queenie trotted across the road to Jacob's bakery, knowing the man would be staying late as he prepared for the next morning's breakfast rush.

Opening the door, the jingle of the bell seemed overly loud in the quite shop, now practically empty after the day's business.

"Jacob?" Queenie called.

"That you, Queenie?" Jacob's voice sounded from the back room and Queenie got a flash of nerves from him as she moved towards his voice.

"Jacob, honey, you okay?" Queenie asked as she stepped through the back-room door to find the baker in question, covered in flour as he prepared the next morning's early delivery. Jacob smiled when he saw her, but Queenie could tell he was incredibly anxious about something.

"Hey, Queenie," Jacob greeted, and was once again stuck by her smile.

"I brought you dinner," Queenie held up the bag she'd brought from home. "And I thought, if you were ready, I'd walk you home," Queenie suggested. They still had a lot to talk about, after all.

"Thanks, darlin'." Jacob's voice was breathless as he wiped his hands with a towel. "Just let me get these out of the oven, and then we can go."

"Jacob, are you okay?" Queenie asked, concerned. "You seem nervous about something, but I can't tell what."

"I'm okay," Jacob tried to assure her, but Queenie felt his anxiety increase.

"No, you're worried," Queenie was sure and her own fear came forward. "Have you changed your mind about England?"

"No!" Jacob was quick to make clear. "I can start a bakery anywhere." And it was here, that Queenie got a flash of clarity in Jacob's mind as an image cut through his nerves. And she gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth as she tried to stop tears filling her eyes.

"Oh, Jacob," she breathed.

The baker raised his eyes to hers, and seeing her expression, he realised he'd been caught, slumping slightly in defeat.

"Am I ever going to be able to surprise you?" He asked.

"I'm sorry," Queenie apologised, realising what she'd just done. "Go ahead."

"What, right now?" Jacob asked. They were in the back room of his bakery, and he was covered in flour and pieces of bread dough.

"Yes, now," Queenie told him, smiling that smile of hers that always seemed to light up whatever room she was in. "It's just you and me."

Smiling hopefully at the encouragement, Jacob took up one of Queenie's hands in both his own.

"Queenie," Jacob began slowly, "I know we haven't known each other long. Heck, it's barely been a month since I first met you, and most of that time, you were just literally, the 'woman of my dreams.' But Queenie," he continued haltingly, "you see me better than anyone else ever has. And now, especially with all that you've done for me, I can't see myself living in a world without you in it."

Swallowing nervously, Jacob got down on one knee and this time, Queenie couldn't stop the tears welling in her eyes.

"Will you marry me, Queenie Goldstein?"

Seeing the depth of emotion in Jacob's eyes, Queenie didn't need her gift to know that he loved her, maybe more than even he consciously realised. But Queenie didn't need her gift to decipher her own feelings, for they shone clear, filling her heart until her chest felt so full, she didn't think there was room for any more emotion.

"Yes, Jacob Kowalski," Queenie accepted excitedly. "I will!"

And before Jacob had even stood back up, she'd kissed him delightedly.

~..~..~..~..

"Well done, Credence," Dumbledore praised as Credence disarmed him effortlessly for the third time in a row. "That new wand of yours is definitely helping to focus your magic."

"Thank you, sir," Credence smiled, flushed with pride. Upon showing professors Imamu and Dumbledore his new wand, they'd broken it in by teaching him some of the more basic charms. Credence had proven he could perform 'lumos', 'alohamora', and 'wingardium leviosa' with very little effort, and was now demonstrating 'expelliarmus' with ease.

After seeing Credence and Professor Dumbledore were content to continue the lesson, Professor Imamu had asked Newt if he could show her the Nundu habitat in his case, and soon, both of them had descended the stairs, leaving Credence and Dumbledore in the class.

"Let's try the shield charm again," Professor Dumbledore suggested, and quickly sent a jinx In Credence's direction, which he deflected easily.

"Very impressive," Dumbledore granted, and noticed that there was a proud note to Credence's smile now, and he no longer appeared to be shrinking in on himself, but standing taller.

"It's a shame you missed your letter to school, Credence," Dumbledore said. "You would have shone, I'm sure."

"How are students accepted to a magical school?" Credence asked. The question had been plaguing him for some time. "I mean, if I have magic, but didn't get accepted…why is that?"

Dumbledore smiled.

"Come with me, and I'll show you."

Dumbledore led Credence through the castle, every now and again, passing a student who greeted the professor, while giving Credence a curious look. Dumbledore would greet every one by their name, and Credence was impressed by the fact Dumbledore didn't just know the names of all his students, but appeared to take a genuine interest in all of them.

Eventually, they arrived at the base of a tall tower, and Dumbledore led Credence up a flight of stairs that ended in a closed door.

"In here," Dumbledore said fondly. "Usually only the staff are permitted to enter," he explained. "It's too risky that a student may try to interfere. But it's often a favourite room for the teachers or the headmaster to come to, as it often has a very calm atmosphere."

The door opened at a tap from Dumbledore's wand, and he led Credence inside.

As Credence stepped into the room, he noticed it was surprisingly empty, except for a couple of chairs that Credence assumed a teacher or other staff member would sit in whenever they chanced to visit here.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Credence noticed the room was lit only by the moonlight entering through the single, tall, glass window, which landed on a pedestal holding a large open book. Beside the book stood an inkwell and a quill made from what appeared to be a large, white, ostrich feather, that seemed to glow in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

"Meet the Quill of Magical Detection," Dumbledore introduced, making a sweeping gesture to each object on the pedestal, "and the Book of Magical Acceptance. Both extremely powerful magical artefacts, which have existed at Howarts since the time of the four founders."

As Credence approached the pedestal, the quill appeared to spring to life, leaping excitedly out of the inkwell before seeming to skip towards the book-

Bang!

However, the book snapped shut with a sound that made Credence jump and, seemingly disappointed, the quill reluctantly returned to the inkwell.

Slowly, the book opened once again.

Dumbledore made a non-comital sound in his throat as he considered the book, holding his hands behind his back as if to remove the temptation to touch.

"Shame," he muttered.

"How do they work?" Credence asked.

"Well, whenever a magical child is born, such as just now, apparently," Dumbledore began, "the quill, having the innate ability to detect all levels of magic in people, will want to write their name into the book immediately, to be added onto the list of students to be accepted at Hogwarts upon their appropriate school year. However," Dumbledore raised a finger in emphasis, "the quill is able to detect even minute levels of magic in children when they are born- ah, here we go!"

For the quill had danced to life once more, jumping out of the inkwell to hover above the book, where Credence could finally see, were written lists of names.

Bang!

The book had once again slammed shut, preventing the quill from so much as touching the paper.

Dumbledore sighed.

"As I was saying, the quill can detect even the smallest amount of magic in a child," the professor continued. "As such, it will want to write a child's name down the moment it's born, or at a time when they show even the smallest shred of magical ability, even if it's so subtle as to appear mundane. So, we have the Book of Magical Acceptance, to ensure that those who attend Hogwarts have full magical capability, whether muggle-born or not."

"So, how does the book decide?" Credence asked.

"While the Quill detects magic in all forms," Dumbledore explained, "the Book detects the amount of magic a child displays. So, a baby is born, and the quill springs to life, but it may just be residual magic from the mother, so the book doesn't accept. Then, when the child is older, they may do something small, like make a small spark of light dart from their fingertips, or cause an item to fall of a table as they brush past without touching it. Both are minute forms of wizardry, and so, while the Quill may spring to life once again, to try adding their name once more, the book will still not allow it. It wouldn't be until a child, say, makes a flower bloom with a simple touch, or causes an object to fly across the room, that the book will detect that child has enough magic within them to study wizardry at Hogwarts. After all," Dumbledore added soberly, "we wouldn't want to accept a student to the school, only for them to realise when they arrive, that they are a squib, and so have no magical ability. It wouldn't be fair to them, as they wouldn't be able to learn."

At that moment, the quill came to life again, gliding over the book's pages, and this time, the quill lowered itself and began writing.

"Oh, look," Dumbledore quickly approached the pedestal eagerly, Credence following, "who's the newest wizard, then? Be careful not to touch." He reminded Credence.

Deciding to mirror the older man, Credence placed his hands behind his back as they read the new name.

"Augusta Longbottom," Dumbledore read. "A new witch, then. Lovely."

"So, if every magical school has something like this," Credence wanted to return to his original question, "how could I have been missed?"

"Well," Dumbledore mused. "I'm not sure what system they have in America, but I imagine it would be along a similar concept. And the only explanation I can think of, Credence," Dumbledore continued, turning to face the young man in question, "is that your power was suppressed so much as a child, that, while the quill may have detected your magic, the book could not detect a large enough quantity to justify accepting your name."

"So, there could be others as powerful as me, but were not accepted?" Credence asked.

"No," Dumbledore shook his head, thinking. "The book cannot measure the magical strength of the wizard themselves, only the level of the magic displayed. For the most part, those wizards born with powerful levels of magic usually display it in some form or another before they're eleven. However, due to your… upbringing," Dumbledore swallowed, "you were made to supress more, it appears, than just your magic. And that led to your magical status being undetected until it became too much for you to hold in any longer. And as the book and quill only detect children under schooling age, anyone who shows any magical ability after that remains…anonymous."

Credence's mind was racing, until a thought occurred to him.

"So, your saying," he began, his eyes unfocused as his mind processed the information, "that for every wizard who gets their name in the book, there could be dozens more who have magic within them, just not enough to be accepted as a wizard?"

Dumbledore frowned momentarily, before raising his eyebrows at this new perspective.

"I hadn't considered that side of things," he confessed, "but yes, that sounds plausible. I'd imagine, such people would most likely be carriers of magical ability," the professor added, "and their child or grandchild may be accepted. You, for instance, Credence," Dumbledore continued, "what do you know of your birth family?"

"Not much," he admitted. "Ma said that my mother was a 'wicked, unnatural woman,' so I guess she must have been a witch. But Mr Graves-I mean, Grindlewald, said that he could 'smell' that I was a squib: Magical ancestry, but no power."

"Yes," Dumbledore's eyes became far away, "it is possible, for wizards to learn to detect magic in others. Perhaps his ability to sense magic is what drew him to you, Credence."

"He said I was unteachable," Credence muttered.

"Well," Dumbledore met the young man's eyes, "we're certainly proving him wrong on that account, aren't we?"

A slow smile tugged at Credence's mouth, and Dumbledore suggested it was time they left.

~..~..~..~..

Later that night, as Credence bid goodnight to Newt and entered the case to find his new owl in his cage, on Newt's desk, and his letters from Tina and Queenie still on his bed. Credence placed his new wand beside his barn owl's cage and felt, for the first time, that he was beginning to truly find his place.

He was a wizard.

Spying the letters, and deciding he wasn't tired quite yet, Credence picked up his wand once more.

"Lumos."

Smiling as the light filled the small shed, Credence eagerly picked up his letter from Tina.

 _Dear Credence_ , he read.

 _I am so happy to learn that you are alive and well. When Newt wrote to me, saying how he'd met you on the ship to England, I admit, I was crying, I was so relieved._

 _All I'd wanted to do was protect you, Credence. You had suffered so much at the hands of that woman you were forced to call 'mother' and you deserved to be treated with so much more love than you had experienced. So, when I thought you had died in the subway, I couldn't imagine a sadder ending to your story, as you had only been a victim all your life, and I hope you can forgive me for failing to save you._

 _So, to hear that you survived, and are now with Newt, in England, makes me so happy. You're safe now, outside MACUSA jurisdiction. You can start again, and I can't think of anyone better than Newt Scamander to help you heal, as he has helped so many others throughout his travels._

 _He tells me you are doing very well with his creatures, and have started your magical training with his Hogwarts professors. How are they going? If there is anything at all you think I could help with, please, don't hesitate to write to me. I look forward to hearing about your lessons, and what spells you're learning._

 _My sister, Queenie, has also written to you, Credence, and says she'd love to hear from you, too._

 _Please write to me, when you can, I look forward to hearing about your experiences in England, and with magic._

 _Your Friend,_

 _Tina Goldstein._

Credence felt a wave of warmth spread through his chest at the words 'your friend'.

Tina considered him a friend.

So did Newt, he remembered, recalling the wizards words from earlier that day, in the wand shop.

Hugging Tina's letter to him for a moment, contently, he then gently placed it to one side before picking up Queenie's letter.

Tina's sister, he mused. He'd never met the woman, and wondered why she'd want to write to him.

Curiously, Credence opened it.

 _Dear Credence_ , he read.

 _My name is Queenie Goldstein, and I'm Tina's sister. We haven't met, but I've learnt a lot about you from Tina and Newt, and, honey, I have to say: I'm so sorry you've had such a hard life. But I know things should be getting better for you, now that you're in England, with Newt helping you._

 _I hope to be moving to England soon, myself, and will do what I can to help you as well._

 _I don't know if Newt or Tina have told you this about me, but I'm a natural Legilimens. That means that, not only can I hear the thoughts in the minds of the people around me, but I can also see who they are as a person, their stories and their emotions. I like to use my gift to help other people, whenever and however I can and, with your permission, I'd be more than happy to help you, if you wanted me to._

 _Tina has thought a lot about you, and, I'm not sure if you know, but she got demoted from her job at MACUSA, for trying to protect you from your mother a few months ago._

 _Tina's very protective of those she cares about, so, even though I've never met you, I know that you must be someone pretty special, Credence. And I'm not talking about the fact you're an obscurial, but of who you are on the inside._

 _Since the incident in the subway, she's thought about you a lot. She was so sad, even after they gave Tina her job back, because she was blaming herself for not being able to save you. I wish you could have felt the strength of relief and happiness she was feeling when she learned you were still alive. It was overwhelming._

 _I can't think of anyone better than Newt to be helping you adjust to life in the wizarding world, as well as to life in England, Credence. He is a man with one of the kindest and accepting hearts I've met. If anyone can help you adjust to your new life, it's Newt Scamander._

 _But don't forget about your own strength of mind, Credence. To have survived so long as an obscurial, you must have a very strong sense of control and determination. The fact that you learned to control it yourself, with no training, tells just how in tune to yourself, and your magic, you are. And someone with such a resilient heart and mind, is surely not only to endure, but to thrive, if given the right environment._

 _I know that you'll do well, in England, and I look forward to meeting you soon, Credence. Please feel free to write to me, if you want someone to talk to._

 _Your friend,_

 _Queenie Goldstein._

Credence hadn't realised that tears were running down his cheeks until one dropped onto the parchment in his hand.

He'd never met Queenie, but he decided he liked her. He was a total stranger to her, and yet, she was reaching out to him, wanting to help him, to befriend him, telling him he was resilient.

Eyes now sore from reading my wand light- Credence smiled at the thought- he carefully folded his letters, before taking his one notebook from his bag. Placing his letters carefully between the pages to protect them, he closed the book and placed it under his pillow, before getting into bed himself.

As Credence flicked the light out from his wand, his gaze fell on his new barn owl, sitting peacefully in its cage, the white feathers on the owls round face, seeming to glow like moonlight in the darkness. He would wake up early tomorrow and write letters back to Tina and Queenie, he told himself.

Breathing deeply, Credence smiled into the dark room.

He had a vault at Gringotts bank. He had a wand. He had an owl. He was taking lessons at Hogwarts and was in Slytherin house.

He was a part of the wizarding world, now.

He also had friends who cared about his wellbeing, and wanted to help him…

And a girl had given him a rose…

His mind still reeling with all the events and lessons of the day, it took Credence a while to reach sleep.

But for the first time in a long time, he only had good dreams.

~..~..~..~

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I know, these two chapters, as well as the end of chapter two, takes place over the course of just one day, but a lot happens when your starting out in the wizarding world, or trying to evade arrest when violating a secrecy law, or holding prisoner the most evil wizard of the day._

 _And I'm hoping to have time start to leap forward a bit, now that the foundation has been set._

 _I read about the Book and Quill on Pottermore, and I found it very fascinating, though I also saw the limits that Credence described. I find that idea fascinating, as, I have a theory that, those people that the Quill identifies, but the Book does not accept, basically go through life as non-wizarding people, but are drawn to magical ideas, objects and people._

 _I'm thinking of having Willow, the girl I introduced in the previous chapter, be such a person. That's why I had her compliment Credence when he described himself as unusual. I see her as feeling 'not quite' part of her own world, and seeing the world she lives in through eyes that know there is more, but the magic is just beyond her reach._

 _I took some time researching magical trees and stones to find an appropriate wand for Credence. As he is the most powerful known obscurial, I figured his wand would not be run-of-the-mill. I was thinking of giving Credence a half-kneazle kitten, but I figured he'd want to post his letters without having to travel to the post office. And I've always thought there was something truly otherworldly about the barn owl, so that's what I gave him.  
_

 _What do you think of my choices for him?_

 _As for Jacob and Queenie, I knew they'd end up getting married, but I realised, being the time period, there would still be the stigma attached to an unwed man and woman traveling together. I also figured that, with Queenie's gift, seeing deeply into people's hearts, as well as minds, she wouldn't feel the need to wait, as most woman would in that era._

 _Please leave a review on what you think of my ideas. I appreciate feedback._

 _Thank you for reading, and I hope to have the next chapter up soon._

 _Celino._


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: Hello everybody! Thank you for the reads, favourites, follows and reviews. I thought I could split this chapter into two, but I just couldn't find an appropriate 'break point'._

 _So, you're getting the lot in one go!_

 _Here's chapter five, I hope you enjoy it._

~..~..~..~..

It had been about a week since Newt and Credence had arrived in England, when a postal owl tapped on Newt's window to deliver the morning prophet. Newt paid the owl, opened the paper and promptly spat his tea upon seeing the front page.

 **GRINDLEWALD ESCAPES FROM MACUSA. MADAM PIQUERY MYSTEFIED.**

Skimming the article quickly, Newt then hurried to ready himself to leave. Gathering his case, he apparated.

Hogwarts' school gates opened for him as he hurried inside, and it wasn't long before he was in Professor Dumbledore's office.

"I assume you've seen this morning's paper?" Dumbledore stated sombrely by way of greeting.

"Do you think he knows Credence is alive?" Newt asked fearfully. "If Credence knew Grindlewald was out…" Newt was afraid to voice his thoughts.

Credence had been doing far better than Newt had hoped, upon arriving in England. His skills with magic were growing every day, and while Credence still kept to himself, Newt felt that the fear was slowly leaving him, as he grew more confident in his abilities and felt more accepted. Already, Credence had corresponded more with Tina and Queenie- Credence appeared to prefer writing to talking. And with Queenie and Jacob's ship due to arrive in London this afternoon, Newt had felt that, with Queenie's natural gift for healing the minds and emotions of others, she could greatly help Credence to overcome the events in his life that originally created the obscurus within him.

But, if he were to be put under duress before that time… Newt had felt they were fortunate to have avoided any stressful situation that could possibly trigger an 'episode' for Credence, but now, Newt found himself in a dilemma.

Do they tell Credence of Grindlewald's escape, and risk his fear triggering an obscurus attack?

Or do they withhold the truth for now, until they are more certain of his control?

And how do they keep Credence safe from Grindlewald in the meantime? For surely, if he didn't know that Credence was alive, he would soon find out.

"I have no idea," Dumbledore stated. "But I imagine, that we will need to anticipate his moves, rather than chase him down." The professor considered Newt pensively.

"You've had numerous experiences tracking dangerous beasts in the wild, Newt," Dumbledore put forward as a challenge. "Imagine Grindlewald as one of your beasts: What would you imagine he'd do?"

"I hardly think this is the time for a tracking game, professor," Newt began. "I'm just trying to find a way to keep Credence safe."

"He can stay here," Dumbledore suggested. "I'll tell professor Dippet-"

"He wouldn't risk it," Newt countered, bringing his hand to his mouth as he tried to come up with a plan. "He knows Grindlewald wanted to use Credence in New York-"

"And so to make sure he doesn't, we have to keep him hidden," Dumbledore spoke over him firmly. "And where's the best place to hide something?"

"In plain sight?" Newt asked.

"In the place you'd never think to look," Dumbledore stated. "No one would think an obscurial would be at a school. Besides," Albus continued. "Hogwarts has many secrets already. What's one more to the pile? It's also highly fortified, hidden and, currently, practically empty."

Newt sighed.

"Well," he considered. "It wouldn't hurt to ask."

~..~..~..~..

Professor Dippet steepled his fingers thoughtfully, as Dumbledore and Newt waited anxiously.

"Upon reading today's paper, most of the parents of those students remaining, called for their children to return home immediately," the old wizard began. "The school is practically empty, aside from a hand-full of students and some staff."

"So, do you think he can stay here?" Newt pressed. "At least, for the holidays?"

The office door opened and Batini Imamu entered the office.

"Having a meeting regarding one of my students and not informing me, Albus?" She shook her head in mock disappointment. "Highly unprofessional. I expected better from you."

"My apologies, Batini," Dumbledore bowed slightly in contrition. "You are quite right."

"Batini, you have observed Credence in his lessons," Professor Dippet spoke to the woman. "Do you think he has enough control of his power already to be trusted here at the school?"

"It is still early in his training, as you are well aware, Sir," Batini began slowly as she considered the question. "However, he has shown great natural talent and an eagerness to learn. Only when correcting him, has he shown, what I call: 'wounded dog syndrome,' in that he flinches, and is overly apologetic, as if expecting a terrible consequence. But, as long as he is kept in a stress-free environment, I don't see why he couldn't stay here over the holiday break," she amended.

"I agree, Sir," Dumbledore added quickly. "If Credence remained at Hogwarts, he will be under the eyes of every staff member at the school. And, on a more positive note, he can experience what all our students get to see at some point or other: Christmas at Hogwarts. It may help him feel more accepted at the school, and in the wizarding world in general, if he gets to spend more than a couple of hours here at a time."

"He could get the chance to explore the library," Newt spoke up, "and become more familiar with the world he was always meant to be a part of. However," he added, "I really think we should ask Credence if he wants to stay here for Christmas."

Professor Dippet nodded.

"Very well," the headmaster nodded. "If Credence wishes to stay, he may do so. He can sleep in the Slytherin common room, as that is his house, and he will be your responsibility, during his time here," his eyes landed on Batini and Albus.

"Yes, Sir," the two professors nodded eagerly.

"I'll go ask him," Newt announced, placing his case on the floor before climbing inside.

~..~..~..~..

Newt found Credence in his usual spot, sitting on the steps leading up to the shed, stroking his new barn owl, whom he'd decided to call Edison, whilst writing in his notebook, which Newt had learned was his journal.

"Credence," Newt called softly, getting his attention.

"Hello Newt," Credence stood up, setting Edison free to fly throughout the case. "All the creatures are fine. No changes since we fed them earlier."

"Good," Newt answered pensively his mind thinking over what he should say.

"Credence, I was wondering," he put forward, "how would you like to spend the Christmas holidays at Hogwarts?"

Credence's eyes became more focused on his friend as he stepped forward, wanting to hear more.

"Christmas at Hogwarts was always among my favourite memories of the school," Newt explained, "and while you are a student, I've realised you haven't really experienced the school itself, just a couple of hours at night, to do your classes. So, Professors Dippet, Imamu and Dumbledore have agreed that you may stay at the school, if you like."

"Really?" Credence asked. "Professor Dippet doesn't mind?"

"During the holidays, the school is practically empty," Newt explained. "And you can finally have a chance to access the library, as well as visit the greenhouses, try some potion-making and even have a go at flying with some of the school brooms. Professor Dippet says you're welcome to stay in the Slytherin house dormitories, as that is your school house."

Smiling slightly, Credence took a step forward, before pausing, appearing to think over the offer.

"There are still students here, aren't there?" Credence asked slowly.

"Not many," Newt assured him. "But you've shown such wonderful control, Credence," he was quick to reassure him. "You haven't come close to an…episode, since you arrived here."

Credence frowned, studying Newt carefully.

"No," Credence shook his head as he considered Newt carefully. "There's something you're not telling me."

Knowing Credence had been lied to far too often in the past is what caused Newt to make a rather reckless decision.

"Credence," Newt began cautiously. "I do, sincerely, wish for you to enjoy a Hogwarts Christmas. However, in addition to that…Now, I don't wish to alarm you, but it appears there's been a development." Newt handed over the paper he still held and watched as Credence's eyes widened at the headline and Newt noticed his hands begin to shake.

"Credence, he still doesn't know you're alive," Newt reminded him quickly. "Grindlewald thinks you're dead, just like the rest of MACUSA does."

Dropping the paper, Credence wrapped his arms around his torso as his legs appeared to give way beneath him and he began rocking on the floor.

"Credence," Newt was in mind of a fearful animal as he slowly lowered himself to the ground. "You are safe, Credence. We're already at Hogwarts. It is heavily fortified and well hidden, spells and centuries-old magic protect this area for miles around. It's the safest place in the country. He won't find you."

Credence slowly met Newt's eyes, and Newt noticed they were full of fear, and beginning to turn white as a whimper escaped Credence's mouth.

"Can I come over to you?" Newt asked, trying to keep his voice low.

A whimper was his only answer, but Newt had the feeling it meant 'yes'.

Staying low, Newt crept forward slowly until he was beside Credence, and slowly… slowly… Newt placed a comforting arm around the young man's shoulders.

"You're not alone, Credence," Newt assured him. "I'm right here, beside you. I told you about Grindlewald because I trust you, Credence. I can see the goodness in you, in how you take care of my creatures. I can see you reaching out to Tina, and Queenie, through your letters. They've told me how proud they are of you, learning magic, as you were always meant to."

"Credence," Newt looked up to see Professor Imamu. Curious as to what was taking so long, she had descended into the case.

"Remember your training, Credence," she spoke slowly as she came forward, her hands out and open, placating. "Control and suppression are not the same thing. What are you feeling?"

Credence was shaking, appearing unable to speak.

"Are you feeling afraid?" Batini asked, coming to sit just in front of Credence.

Swallowing, Credence nodded.

"Of Grindlewald?" Newt asked.

Again, Credence nodded.

"Are you afraid he'll try to come after you, again?" Newt asked.

Credence nodded. His breathing was ragged as he continued to rock himself, wisps of black beginning to emanate from him, like smoke.

"Remember, he doesn't know you're alive," Newt assured him. "And even if he does, you are in a safe place, and have friends now, who care about you. We'll protect you, Credence. And you can even learn to protect yourself, now."

Credence hunched over, burying his face in his arms.

"That's not all you're afraid of, is it, Credence?" Batini asked, her eyes searching.

Face still buried, Credence shook his head.

"Are you afraid of another repetition of what happened in New York?" Newt asked.

Another nod, and finally, Credence spoke.

"I'm a monster," he whispered. "I've killed people."

"That wasn't you, Credence," Newt wrapped his arm tighter around his friend's shoulders and felt the younger man lean heavily into his touch. "That was a parasitic magical force you couldn't control before. But now, you can," he assured him. "Look: nothing's happening. No one is attacking you. We're here, with you, Credence. We're here to help you."

"You have learned so much, Credence," Batini reminded him. "Remember your classes with Albus and I. Remember the spells you have learned. If you had no ability to control the magic within you, you could not have done any of that."

"Deep breaths, Credence," Newt told him, and, impulsively, stroked his head with his free hand, as if he were a scared animal in his care. Surprisingly, Newt actually felt Credence relax slightly at his touch, so he continued. Slowly, the wisps of black began to fade away.

"Emotions and intent, Credence," Batini reminded him. "Control. Change your emotions. Remember why you should not be afraid: you are accepted here, at Hogwarts, in the wizarding world."

"You're even a member of a Hogwarts house," Newt added encouragingly.

"You have been learning magic at an accelerated rate," Batini added, laughing slightly. "You are quite the protégé, Credence."

"Tina, Queenie, and I are so proud of you," Newt assured him. "Not to mention, I'm sure, Albus and Batini. You've been adapting to the magical world so well."

"You have people who genuinely care about you, Credence," Batini continued.

"You are so good with my creatures," Newt added, looking up to see Dougal had actually arrived at the shed door. "And look," Newt encouraged. "Dougal has come to see if you're alright."

Lifting his head, Credence turned to see the demiguise standing in the doorway.

Entering the shed, Dougal wrapped his long arms around both Credence and Newt, hugging both men close.

Slowly, Credence's eyes returned to their formal brown colouration, yet Credence continued to shake. Though this time, it was due to the tears running down his face.

"Well done Credence," Batini congratulated as Credence wrapped his arms around Newt and Dougal, hugging them like a lifeline. As uncomfortable as Newt found the situation, he realised it was important for Credence, and so did his best to relax himself.

"You did it, Credence," Newt told him, slowly pulling away to meet the younger man's eyes. "You controlled the obscurus yourself."

"Thank you," Credence sobbed, pulling Dougal tighter to him like a teddy bear. "Thank you for helping me."

"Thank you for letting us help you, Credence," Batini told him gently. "Don't ever be afraid to ask us for help. That is what friends are for."

"Whenever you need it, Credence," Newt assured him. "You can talk to us, don't keep it inside. Thank you for trusting us, as we trust you."

Credence sobs increased as he allowed himself to release his emotions and Batini came forward, and wrapped her arms around him, stroking his head as if he were a small child.

"You're okay, little one," she murmured, like a mother. "You're safe. You're loved. You're okay…"

After a while, Credence could calm down enough to wipe his eyes and stand up.

"Are you alright, Credence?" Newt asked. "Feeling better?"

Credence seemed to seriously consider the question before nodding, appearing surprised.

"Yes," he answered slowly, meeting Newt's eyes as his friend got to his feet. "Thank you for trusting me, Newt."

"I do trust you, Credence," Newt assured him. 'And now, we also have proof for Dippet and my brother, that Credence can control his obscurus,' he added in his mind.

"Thank you. Dougal," Newt told the demiguise.

"Thank you, Dougal," Credence echoed as he stretched out his hands for another hug, which Dougal appeared happy to give, before heading back out into the case.

"Shall we head up?" Batini suggested, gesturing to the ladder. "They're probably wondering what's taking so long."

~..~..~..~..

"He almost set the obscurus loose?" Professor Dumbledore repeated as they left professor Dippet's office. Newt and Batini had waited until Credence had been formally accepted to stay for the holidays and away from the headmaster, before explaining to Dumbledore what had happened in the case.

"But he didn't," Newt reminded him, giving Credence a smile. "Nothing to worry about. Told you, he has control."

"And you don't think we should have told Professor Dippet because…?

"He'd worry," Newt said surely. "Shall we get Credence settled in the Slytherin dormitories?" He suggested quickly. "Then he could maybe get a proper tour of the castle."

"I think we only have the Head boy in the Slytherin dormitories at the moment," Batini considered. "Come, Credence," she took his arm good naturedly as they walked. We'll introduce you to your Head of House, and then a spare room can be found for you, before you get a tour of the castle."

"In the meantime, I'm afraid I shall have to take my leave," Newt spoke up apologetically. "I'm sorry, but with this new development, I'm worried about Tina. She was on the team interrogating Grindlewald at MACUSA. I want to have a word with my brother at the ministry."

At Newt's words, Credence's head snapped up. He hadn't realised Tina was in the team in charge of Grindlewald…

"Will Tina be okay?" He asked.

"I'll make sure of it," Newt said determinedly. "Oh, that reminds me, Credence," Newt got the younger man's attention. "Jacob and Queenie will be arriving here today. Would you like to join me in meeting them at the docks when they arrive?"

Credence nodded.

"Excellent," Newt smiled. "See you then," and with that, he turned and made his way out of the castle grounds before disapparating to the Ministry.

~..~..~..~

Madam Piquery stood in her council room, studying a world map as aurors argued around her.

"How did he get out?"

"Where would he go?"

"Who was in charge of security?"

"What's he after?"

Gritting her teeth against the headache building in her temple, Madam Piquery took a deep breath.

"Enough!" she called for attention, and soon, her council room was quiet.

Tina stood near the back. She was the newest member to the leading team, so she thought it would be better to listen, before speaking.

"It doesn't matter now, how he got out," Madam Piquery spoke in a low voice that still carried to every ear in the room. "What matters now, is that he has escaped, and we need to find him."

"He's left America," Charles Bennet informed the group.

"That's not surprising," Madam Piquery considered. "After all, he left England to come here, to get away from the law. Why not do the same now? The question is: how do we find him?"

"He'll need a safe place to start again," Percival Graves spoke up as he entered the room, causing a small chorus of 'welcome back, sir' amongst the staff. "We find that, we find him."

"Mr Graves," Madam Piquery greeted coolly. "You are not meant to be here for another week."

"And if you think I'm sitting this out, Madam President" Mr Graves told her, "then, with all due respect, you don't know me very well." A smattering of applause greeted his statement.

The President called for quiet and the applause died down instantly, as if guilty.

"Very well, Graves," Madam Piquery invited. "Where do you think we should start?"

"My information tells me, that Grindlewald was schooled at Durmstrang," Graves stepped up to the map to lay a finger on northern Europe. "He then spent several years after that in Britain, before getting arrested by the British Ministry, where he then escaped and came here."

"Your point?" Madam Piquery wasn't in the mood for a story.

"My point, Madam president," Mr Graves explained patiently. "is that, when you've escaped from prison, you need a place to start again. A safe place." He pointed to the map again. "Grindlewald knows Europe well," he stated. "If there's any place he'd go to regroup before starting his campaign again, it's there."

"Has their Ministry been notified?" Auror Bennet asked.

"Everyone's been notified," Madam Piquery stated, frowning as she studied the map. "We need to find a way to contain him."

"But it's not just us, anymore," Tina found herself speaking up and froze as all eyes in the room turned to her.

"Go on, Auror Goldstein," Mr Graves encouraged.

Tina swallowed before taking a breath.

"It's not just us anymore," she repeated. "Grindlewald is now officially a global threat, and we'll never catch him if we're thinking 'we' are the only ones who should catch him. It's only with all nations working together, will we find a way to apprehend him."

The room was quiet and Tina was afraid she'd spoken out of turn, but Graves gave her a nod in reassurance.

"What do you suggest, Auror Goldstein?" Madam Piquery asked carefully.

Tina was slightly surprised that the President of MACUSA was asking her advice, before gathering herself and stepping closer to the map.

"So far, only two countries have managed to capture Grindlewald," Tina began. "The British Ministry of Magic, and us. We're the only ones who have interrogated him, who know him. And if Mr Graves is correct, and I am sure he is, Grindlewald will most likely have a safe house somewhere in Europe where he's planning to run to ground, and bide his time before resurfacing to begin his campaign again." Tina took another breath. "I suggest, we contact the British Ministry, and offer to work together in finding and capturing Grindlewald," she stated. "if we combine our knowledge and forces together, we have a greater chance of capturing him than if we have two separate governments tracking him down."

Graves smiled.

"Now, do you see why I wanted her on my team, Madam President?" He asked.

Madam Piquery nodded as she considered the idea.

"Arrange for an international Floo connection," she announced. "I will write to the Ministry of Magic in Britain of our proposal to work together, and, Graves," she added, "you will hand pick a team of Aurors to accompany you. Go pack your bags," she ordered. "Your team will leave as soon as possible."

Tina approached Mr Graves as everyone began to disperse as the president continued to give orders.

"Ever been to Britain, Auror Goldstein?" Graves asked.

"No Sir," Tina admitted. "But my sister has just moved to London."

"Well, go pack a bag, quickly," he told her. "You're on my team."

"Really?" Tina tried to stay professional, but couldn't help the smile appearing on her face. "I'm going to Britain?"

She was going to see Queenie so soon! And she could maybe see Newt again…

"We're going to Britain," Mr Graves stated, his mind already planning ahead.

~..~..~..~..

Newt entered the Ministry to find it in something like organised chaos. Everywhere he looked, witches and wizards were rushing around, all with determined or fearful looks on their faces.

When he reached the auror department, Newt realised he may not get the chance to speak with his brother as the place was crowded. Senior aurors yelling orders, owls flying, delivering anonymous tips, and junior aurors calling them out to see if they're worth looking into- apparently, someone had seen Grindlewald sneaking through their vegetable patch at two in the morning…

Newt sighed as he made his way through the throng towards his brother's office. Eventually he saw his brother through the glass window, studying a world map.

Theseus Scamander was someone who many people looked up to. Not just because he was the Head of the Auror department at the ministry, nor even due to his efforts during the war, though both were great factors.

But no, it was because Theseus had always been a man of action and honour. If there was one thing the brothers had in common, it was their constant endeavour to do the right thing. Their difference, of course, was often in what the 'right thing' actually was.

Theseus looked up as Newt knocked on the door, and it was then Newt realised the Minister for Magic himself was at his side.

"Hello Minister," Newt greeted. "Theseus."

"Newt, I'm busy, if you hadn't heard," his brother told him. He looked exhausted already, he'd obviously started the day very early, but there was a fire in his eyes Newt recognised.

Theseus was out to get the bad guy.

Well, he was a Griffindor, Newt reminded himself.

"I know, I read the paper this morning, that's why I'm here," Newt announced. "I was wondering, as I've encountered Grindlewald before, if there was anything I can do to help?"

"Really?" Theseus asked sceptically as he straightened up. "It's not like you to volunteer for a fight."

"I didn't say fight, I said help," Newt clarified. "I don't want another repeat of New York."

"Yes, I remember," the Minister spoke up, considering. "Quite an interesting story, that," he gestured to a piece of parchment on the desk, and Newt froze as he recognised his handwriting. "Your brother was just explaining to me the letter you sent him regarding those events."

Newt looked at his brother accusingly.

"You told him?"

"He's the Minister," Theseus stated flatly. "Of course I told him."

"So, the obscurial was young man, not a child," the Minister stated shaking his head. "How unfortunate it had to end as it did. Still, at least he's no longer a threat."

"No," Newt agreed carefully. "He's no longer a threat."

Theseus' eyes narrowed as he studied his brother. Newt often didn't like to be around people under normal circumstances, but even so, there was something in his voice and stance that seemed unusual.

"Newt…" Theseus began, but was interrupted as an owl glided into his office, depositing a letter on the desk before fluttering up to perch on the back of a chair.

Tearing the letter open, Theseus scanned the writing, whereas Newt simply reached out to stroke the regal-looking eagle owl.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Theseus muttered.

"What is it?" The Minister asked.

"MACUSA is requesting we work together to catch Grindlewald," Theseus explained shortly, "and is sending a team over here in a matter of hours."

Newt's head snapped up, his mind immediately going to Tina. She had been on the team investigating Grindlewald…

"Sending a team?" The Minister repeated drily. "That doesn't sound like much of a request."

"My thoughts, exactly," The Head Auror stated in frustration. "Typical America: pretending to ask, but really, demanding to just come in and take over."

"It wouldn't hurt to have help," Newt put forward his opinion, getting the attention of both men. "Tina's told me their interrogations of Grindlewald got some useful leads. Maybe," he continued, trying to sound neutral, "if you both combined your shared knowledge, you could anticipate Grindlewald's next step."

"And who's 'Tina'?" The Minister asked.

"Tina Goldstein," Theseus supplied, a knowing look flickering through his eyes. "One of the aurors who assisted in Grindlewald's capture."

"Indeed?" the Minster raised his eyebrows. "Very impressive. Well," the older man continued after a pause. "As much as I'm reluctant to admit it, I have to say, it would help in anticipating Grindlewald's moves, if we had all the information we could. And MACUSA has that information."

Theseus sighed. "True," he admitted.

"There are times in life where we must shelve our pride to ensure a task is completed well," the Minister spoke quietly, as if to himself, before smiling a bit. "At the council in New York," he supplied, "when I tried to advise her of the threat of exposure the murder of Senator Shaw could cause, Madam Piquery said she 'will not be lectured to by the man who let Gellert Grindlewald slip through his fingers.'" He gathered up the letter from MACUSA before allowing the owl to climb onto his arm. "I look forward to writing our reply to Madam Piquery."

Theseus shook his head slightly as the Minister left his office. He respected the man, but still…

"Politicians," he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

~..~..~..~..

Later that day, Credence followed Newt as they made their way to the harbour, following the path Dumbledore had taken them not even a week ago.

Had it really only been a few days? He wondered as he stuck close to Newt, feeling the snow beginning to fall around them.

Yes, Credence reminded himself. It really had only been a few days since he'd arrived in England, and already, Credence had a wand and was learning magic at Hogwarts, currently staying at the magical school. He'd meet Horace Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house, earlier that day and the man had been jovial, if a little disappointed to find that Credence was from a poor, adopted muggle family. But he'd welcomed Credence nevertheless, saying he was free to stay in the seventh form dormitories during the holidays, as Dumbledore's guest.

"But if he's your guest, Albus," Horace had asked, "why not have him stay in the Griffindor tower? You're head of Griffindor, after all."

"While Credence is from America, we had him try on the sorting hat," Albus explained. "The hat chose him as a Slytherin. So, we thought it would be more fitting for him to experience 'his' house dorm room, during his stay at the castle."

Horace had agreed wholeheartedly, saying everyone who called themselves a Slytherin was welcome, before showing Credence to the Common room, hidden behind a wall near the dungeons.

It was here, he'd been introduced to the Slytherin Head boy, a seventeen year-old named August Boot.

"Are you related to the Boot brothers, who helped found Ilvermorny, in America?" Credence had asked without thinking. For Tina and Queenie had told him stories of their wizarding school in America, the school Credence should have gone to, and hearing the familiar last name caused a leap of emotion to spring to his chest, at the thought of meeting a relative of theirs.

"Actually, yes," the boy answered with a laugh. "They were something like my great-great-great-great uncles."

It was here, that Professor Slughorn left them, and August gave Credence a tour of the castle. He'd asked Credence about going to Ilvermorny, and Credence related the stories Tina and Queenie had passed on to him, as best as he could, trying to avoid having to say he hadn't actually attended himself.

"And what house were you in?" August then asked.

Credence swallowed, thinking quickly.

"Horned serpent," he stammered, thinking of the snake symbol of both the Hogwarts and Ilvermorny houses. "It represents the mind, and attracts scholars."

"I can see that," August nodded, studying Credence. "You're not much of a talker. But that's okay," he assured him. "Some of the greatest ideas in history have come from great thinkers."

August had been surprised to find that Credence had never learned how to play chess, and immediately set about teaching him the game. Credence had found he'd enjoyed the lesson, and when he watched his knight take out August's pawn for the first time, he'd found the mini battle on the chessboard strangely satisfying. As the game involved a lot of strategy, and unless they were discussing a rule or a certain move, they didn't need to talk much, as both were focused on the game. When August had told Credence how good it was to have someone else in the near-empty common room, Credence had felt a flush of relief that August appeared to actually enjoy his company.

And now, it was just after lunch, the snow was staring to fall, and Newt had picked Credence up at the school gate to go and meet Queenie and Jacob at the docks.

Credence was looking forward to meeting Queenie. The woman's letters had seemed to show a kind woman, and she'd said she could possibly help him get more control over his obscurus.

Credence had no idea how that could be possible. But he was willing to give it a try. Credence was willing to do anything to get rid of this monster in his chest.

Then, maybe Grindlewald couldn't find him, as he was no longer harbouring a monster…

"There she is," Newt announced, breaking Credence out of his reflection, and he looked up to see a beautiful blond woman, dressed in a pink coat and hat, hurrying towards them, waving excitedly.

"Newt!" Queenie rushed forward to give her friend a hug before quickly stepping back. "Oh, I'm sorry, honey, I know you're uncomfortable with hugs," she apologised. "We're just so happy to see you!" And it was then that Credence noticed the smiling man in a charcoal suit at her side.

"It's perfectly alright, Queenie," Newt smiled shyly, before greeting the man.

"Jacob, good to see you."

"You too, pal," Jacob told him, holding up a suitcase. "Listen, thank you so much for helping me get my bakery."

"Oh, my pleasure," Newt was quick to assure his friend. "I wasn't going to do anything with them."

"If you want these back," Jacob began but Newt cut him off.

"No, Jacob," he insisted. "Use them to get a new bakery. Which reminds me," Newt dug into his coat pocket and brought out a newspaper clipping. "There is actually a patisserie that's empty, with an apartment above included, I found it advertised yesterday." He passed it over as Jacob's jaw dropped.

"Just thought it could be a place for you to start looking," he added, avoiding the grateful looks his friends were giving him.

"Oh, Newt," Queenie sighed, smiling happily.

"Thanks, pal," Jacob shook his friends hand. "Sounds like a perfect place to start."

"We could have a look at it after you hand your paperwork to the Ministry?" Newt suggested. "Or before, whatever you wish."

"Sounds perfect," Queenie smiled before turning her eyes to Credence.

"Can I greet you now, Credence?" She asked. Her gift had let her know that while Credence did yearn to interact more with people, he felt so inept at the task, he was more comfortable observing.

"Oh, it's so wonderful to finally meet you, honey," Queenie wrapped her arms around the young man, like an aunt doting on her favourite nephew. "Oh, you poor, poor thing," she whispered, becoming tearful as she began to stroke Credence's hair, as if he were a small child. "You've had it rough, haven't you? But remember, you're okay now," she assured him. "You don't have to live like that, anymore."

"So, you're Credence," Jacob smiled, coming forward, extending a hand. "I'm Jacob. It's nice to meet you. Queenie and Tina have told me so much about you."

Credence shook the baker's hand slowly.

"It's nice to meet you," he said.

"So," Newt announced, "if you'd like to put your bags in my case, I can take you past the patisserie for sale before going to the Ministry?"

"Great idea," Jacob agreed, and they made their way into a hidden area so no one would see them lowering their travelling cases into a seemingly smaller case.

"Where will you be staying?" Newt asked as they walked, beginning his tour around London, Credence keeping up, but content to be silent. Still, Queenie linked her arm with his, to help him feel part of the group.

"We were thinking of getting a room at the Leaky Cauldron," Queenie announced, "until we could find our own place."

"Two rooms," Jacob amended, to ensure there was no misunderstanding, but it just caused Queenie to laugh.

"Oh, Jacob, you're my fiancé," Queenie reminded him.

"I still want to do things properly," he insisted, which only made Queenie's smile widen as she hooked her free arm with his.

"You're such a gentleman," she told him fondly. "I love that about you."

"Yes, congratulations, to you both," Newt told them sincerely, having read of their engagement in their most recent letter.

"Thanks, pal," Jacob grinned. "Tina was a little put out that we're getting married in England, but she was looking forward to coming over. It's just going to be a small service."

"Teenie'll be my maid of honour, of course," Queenie supplied. "And I think she was looking forward to coming to England to see you, as well as the wedding, Newt," Queenie added cheekily and was rewarded as a blush crept across the magizoologists cheeks.

"Uh," Newt stammered an Queenie's smiled grew wider.

"And you'll be happy to see her too," she answered for him.

"Please don't read my mind, Queenie," Newt told her.

"You know I can't help it," the woman told him.

"Hey Newt, I was wondering," Jacob spoke up, wanting to help his friend by changing the subject slightly. "Would you be my Best Man at the wedding?"

The request actually caused Newt to stop in his tracks, surprised.

"Me?" Newt stammered. "You want me to be your Best Man?"

"Yeah, of course," Jacob smiled, as if the choice was obvious. "You're my friend, Newt. If it weren't for you, I actually never would've met, Queenie," the baker smiled at his fiancé. "I can't think of a better person to be my Best Man, than you."

Newt blinked rapidly, appearing speechless at the declaration.

"Oh," was all he managed to get out before Queenie stepped forward.

"You have friends now, too, Newt," she reminded him softly. "It's not just Credence who needs reminding that people accept him for who he is. We love you for who you are, too."

Stepping forward, she hugged him close for a moment, a hug which he returned, if a little awkwardly, before clearing his throat as the woman stepped back.

"I would be honoured, Jacob," Newt told his friend, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Thank you," the baker smiled gratefully.

"And you're invited too, Credence," Queenie assured the young man, smiling at his look of surprise.

"Of course you're invited too," the legilimens answered his unspoken question. "You're our friend, and that's what weddings are about: being surrounded by the people you love, as you pledge your love to another." Smiling, she took up Jacob's hand fondly.

"Come on," Newt gestured over his shoulder awkwardly, "it's this way."

Eventually, they arrived along the main street, and Credence realised he could recognise several of the buildings and shops that surrounded them.

Newt led them to a shop that appeared empty. The lettering on the windows had been scraped off, leaving only a few marks of paint on the glass, and the inside of the small shop looked dark and dusty.

A sign posted on the glass was the same as the one displayed in the newspaper clipping Newt had found. Saying that the patisserie and the apartment above were available for rent, along with a contact address and phone number of the owner.

"It's a muggle place," Newt explained as Jacob eagerly peered through the window. "But, being a rental, it could be a good place to start?"

"It's perfect," Jacob smiled. "I'll contact the owner as soon as we're settled. Maybe tomorrow? We've still got to register at your Ministry and get to the Leaky Cauldron place you told us about."

Queenie smiled at seeing how excited Jacob was at having such a place available so quickly and she sighed happily. Everything was going perfectly.

Catching a stray thought, she turned to see Credence staring wistfully across the street.

Credence had recognised the buildings around him and felt his breath catch slightly when he caught sight of the rose-pink store front of the flower shop, just a few buildings down the road, on the other side of the street.

And there, standing in front of the shop, was Willow, offering flowers to people as they passed.

She was wearing a dark blue dress today, and a long black coat to keep out the winter chill. Her light, chestnut-brown hair was tied and gathered simply at the base of her neck, and tendrils of her hair kept escaping in the wind to frame her face.

Queenie smiled and, seeing Jacob was still staring in the patisserie window, excitedly explaining his plans to Newt, she hooked her arm around Credence's, and began walking them across the road.

"What are we doing?" Credence asked, his voice stammering slightly.

"You want to go talk to her," Queenie smiled, nodding at the young woman and Credence ducked his head.

"I know you find it difficult, sometimes, honey," Queenie told him sympathetically. "But that's why I'm here. I'll be right beside you."

"Excuse me," Queenie called to Willow and she felt Credence's nerves as the girl turned to look at them.

"Credence?" Willow smiled in recognition. "It's good to see you again," she said and Queenie felt Credence relax as relief flooded through him.

Then Willow's eyes landed on Queenie and their hooked arms and Queenie detected the girl's heart sinking and felt she'd better speak up to set her mind at ease.

"Hi, you must be Willow," Queenie smiled. "My friend Credence, here, told me about you. My fiancé is just across the road there, looking at a patisserie we're hoping to rent," Queenie pointed over to the empty shop and smiled at the comprehension in the girl's mind. "And when Credence saw you over here, I had to come meet you. He told me how you gave him a welcoming present on his first day exploring London, it was so sweet."

"Oh, it was my pleasure," the girl smiled and Queenie could hear the sincerity in her voice as well as her mind. "I know it must be so daunting, coming to a new country, so I was just…" she glanced at Credence, "trying to be welcoming."

"Thank you," Credence spoke up, though his voice was still quiet.

"Are you and your fiancé from New York, as well?" Willow asked Queenie.

"Yes, that's how we know Credence," the woman answered. "We've just arrived here, and it was such a relief, to be able to see someone familiar. It can be difficult, making friends in a new country."

"Oh, I'm sure," Willow nodded in sympathy. "But," she gestured to Queenie with a smile, "you seem like you'll make friends easily." With her sunny smile and pink coat, Queenie seemed, to Willow, to be as glamourous as any of the actresses she'd seen on the silver screen. Glancing back at the flower shop, Willow quickly took a pink carnation out of her basket and offered it to Queenie. "Welcome to England," she smiled.

"Aww, thank you, sweetie," Queenie smiled as she accepted the flower. "My name's Queenie, by the way."

"Pleasure to meet you," Willow smiled, bobbing a little curtsey. "I hope you get that shop across the road," she added.

"Me too," Queenie nodded. "Jacob, my fiancé," Queenie explained, "was a baker back in New York, and we hope to start up again here."

"Well, we always have room for another bakery," Willow smiled. "I'll be sure to come by when it opens."

"Credence will be helping," Queenie added, and Credence's head shot up in surprise. "Being new to England as well, he needs a paying job," Queenie explained, answering Credence's unspoken question, "and, Jacob will need help to start up his bakery."

"Everyone wins," Willow smiled. "Sounds like a good plan."

Hearing a call, Queenie turned to see Jacob waving.

"Coming honey!" She called across the road. "Sorry, we've gotta go," she said to Willow, "We'll see you again soon."

"Nice to see you again," Credence finally got the courage to say to Willow as they left.

"You too," Willow smiled. "Oh," she called after them, "the kitten found a home yesterday," she told Credence proudly. "She's a little girl's best friend, now, and was given the name 'Holly', as it's the Christmas season."

Credence smiled, remembering the tortoiseshell kitten Willow had saved from being hit by a car.

"I'm glad," he told her, considering whether to say anything more, deciding not to, and turning to follow Queenie.

Queenie giggled as Credence caught up with her, hearing his mental tirade at himself at only saying three short sentences.

"Oh, honey, it's okay, it'll take time," she told him. "Willow's quite shy too, but, due to her job, she's learning to talk to people more."

Credence's brow creased slightly as he wondered if that was why Queenie had offered him a job at Jacob's future bakery.

"Well, that's part of the reason I offered you the job," Queenie admitted. "Other than the practical reasons I mentioned to Willow, I think helping Jacob might help you get on your feet, like the rest of us. And help you out of your shell. But is only if you want to," she assured him. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to do."

Credence thought for a moment and Queenie smiled again, before wrapping her arms around Credence in a hug.

"Oh, good," her smile was bright as she regarded Credence fondly.

"I know you've had a rough past, Credence," she told him with empathy. "But you have everything you need to make a fresh start. To live the life you want." She glanced back at Willow.

"I like her," she nodded surely, turning back to Credence. "She's got a good heart."

Credence smiled as Newt and Jacob approached.

"Hey," Jacob noticed the pink carnation in Queenie's hand. "You buying flowers? I can get you some."

"No, it was welcoming present," Queenie corrected her fiancé, gesturing back to where Willow stood, currently selling a couple a white rose.

Newt considered this, his eyes going to Credence.

"Is that her, then?" He asked, curiously.

"Who?" Jacob asked.

"Credence's first day around London," Newt explained, "he comes back to my flat, holding a rose he'd been given as a 'welcome to England' present."

"Really?" Jacob smiled as Credence ducked his head. "The English girls must like the American accent, huh?"

"Willow also saved a kitten from being run over, and helped it find a loving home," Queenie added to take the focus off Credence, who was blushing at the implication of Jacob's tone.

"I like her already," Newt commented with a nod of approval.

"Okay, we need to get to the Ministry and hand over that paperwork," Jacob announced with a clap of his hands, ready to start his new life with Queenie, here in England, as soon as possible.

"Yes," Newt nodded in agreement. "We need to get you your exemption, Jacob. This way." And he led the way down the street towards the Ministry's side entrance.

Deciding Credence would be safer in the case, he climbed in before they entered the Ministry.

"You didn't tell your brother Credence was alive?" Queenie queried as they entered the elevator. Then, as they descended, Queenie finally got wind of what had occurred while they'd been sailing across the ocean.

"Oh, no," she whispered.

"What is it?" Jacob asked.

"Grindlewald's escaped," Queenie told him and Jacob's eye's widened.

"You mean. That crazy guy who was impersonating that auror guy…uh," his mind tried to remember the name, "Graves?"

"Yes," Newt answered grimly. "And my brother, being the Head of the Auror department here in England, like Graves, is very dedicated to his job. And I'm not going to risk another event like New York, that could risk Credence's life."

"Department of Muggle Relations," the elevator announced coolly as it came to a stop.

"This way," Newt led his friends through a relatively calmer, and less crowded, floor, where they approached a ministry desk. Upon Queenie announcing her and Jacob's recent arrival in England and request for Jacob to get an exemption, the couple were passed over to a muggle relations agent, where they were taken to a small meeting room, leaving Newt waiting in the main foyer.

After what seemed like an Age, to Newt, Queenie and Jacob exited the room, smiling as they shook hands with the witch they'd spoken to.

"See you in three months," she told them. "And welcome to England."

"Thank you, so much," Jacob was wearing the biggest smile Newt had seen him show, and so could only assume they'd received some good news.

"As Jacob and I are engaged, he has been given a temporary exemption, lasting three months," Queenie explained as they headed back toward the elevator. "We have to get married within that time, provide a copy of our marriage certificate as proof, and then, he can be given a full exemption from the International Statute of Secrecy." Queenie let out a breath of air in a rush.

"She actually said 'congratulations', to us," the woman placed a hand over her heart as she realised she really didn't have to worry about marrying Jacob here in England.

"And when she heard I wanted to open up a bakery, she said she could even help us get British Citizenship faster than the non-magical way." Jacob supplied, laughing at their luck. "Apparently, helping the economy is always a good way to show you're serious about coming here."

"Congratulations," Newt told them, smiling.

As they waited for the elevator, Queenie gasped in shock, grabbing the arms of both men.

"Queenie?" Jacob asked in concern, seeing his fiancé's eyes glaze over, clearly her mind was far away.

"What is it?" Newt asked.

Slowly, a smile appeared on Queenie's face and she practically skipped into the elevator when it arrived, pulling the two men after her.

"Auror department," Queenie announced, and the elevator took off.

"Queenie," Newt pressed. "What is it?"

The woman clasped her hands together happily.

"Tina's here," she announced.

~..~..~..~..

Tina exited the fireplace with the team, suitcase in hand, to enter the British Ministry for Magic for the first time.

After an aide greeted Mr Graves, and they each showed their identification, they were led through a grand hall with a highly polished floor, that was lined with fireplaces, with lines of people coming and going. And as Tina's eyes followed the handsome panelled walls up, her mouth dropped open at the peacock-blue ceiling, that appeared to be constantly shimmering with a variety of golden runes and symbols that kept changing.

Continuing down the hall, Tina's eyes were drawn to a large fountain that stood at the centre of the main entrance way, depicting a witch, wizard, centaur, goblin and house elf, each represented as a larger-than-life statue, appearing to have been sculpted from solid gold.

'The Fountain of Magical Brethren' she read along the base of the fountain as the group passed.

The group were led to a security station, where a security wizard ran a secrecy sensor over each of them, and they had to hand in their wands for inspection before being allowed through.

"Security's not bad," Tina mused as they all passed their checks and were led to an elevator, and Tina was surprised to realise they were going down, not up.

"Wow, the Brits do everything backwards, here, don't they?" Charles Bennet muttered under his breath, causing a couple of the other MACUSA Aurors on the team to smirk.

"Try to keep opinions like that to yourself, Bennet," Graves told him casually. "We are trying to encourage international magical co-operation, whilst here. Besides," he added smoothly. "We are guests in this country, and in this Ministry. We mustn't offend our hosts."

"Yes, sir," Bennet nodded, lowering his eyes.

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the cool voice announced as it came to a stop.

"This is us," the aide announced, leading them out into the throng of aurors that filled the department floor.

Tina was glad Graves' team numbered twelve, or thirteen, if you counted the man himself, as they were able to carve a reasonably clear path through the hustle and bustle of people going about their work. Many threw them curious glances, some glared resentfully, and Tina decided the best thing to do would be to hold her head high, keep her eyes forward and walk with purpose, and try to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

Theseus looked up from consulting with his own team as a knock sounded on his office door.

"The MACUSA team is here, sir," the junior announced.

"Thank you, Donnelly," Theseus stood up to greet his visitors.

"Head Auror, Percival Graves, I assume?" Theseus held out a hand to the handsome, middle aged man who entered his office first. "Welcome to England. I'm Head Auror, Theseus Scamander."

"Yes, thank you," Mr Graves shook the hand of his English counterpart. "My team and I hope we can work together to catch this madman as soon as possible."

"Well, it's good of you to offer assistance," Theseus smiled thinly, "especially seeing as it was you who lost him."

Graves raised his eyebrows, unfazed, as he walked around Theseus' desk to examine the paperwork he'd been perusing.

"With all due respect, Mr Scamander," Mr Graves began, "if you hadn't lost him first, Grindlewald would never have made it to America. So how about we forget the childish 'blame game' and actually get to work ensuring that there is no third time?"

"Fair point," Theseus granted, annoyed that he'd been undermined in his own office, in front of his own aurors. "Gather round for the briefing."

After making it clear that the information they were about to receive highly classified, Theseus and Graves both outlined what they either knew about Grindlewald through interrogation or had deduced from his actions and previous methods.

"He'd be hiding at the moment," Graves nodded. "But for someone like him, he can't stay hidden for long. He'll show himself soon enough."

"But the longer we wait, the more time he has to find other criminals to aid his cause," Theseus countered. "We need to flush this guy out, or track him down at least."

"Keep our ears to the ground," Graves agreed. "Do you have any informants we can use?"

"They're already on the look-out," Theseus answered. "They'll let us know if we hear anything."

'Unless they get a better offer from Grindlewald,' Tina thought.

It was some time still before they were let out, each auror with a file they had to go over, containing details of past interrogations with the dark wizard. They were to go through them with a fine-tooth comb, in search of any clue as to what Grindlewald's next step would be, or a possible hiding place.

Graves was just leading them back to the elevator, saying Madam Piquery had arranged for hotel rooms for each of them, when the elevator doors opened, and Tina saw a flash of pink before she found herself wrapped in a hug.

"Queenie?" Tina stammered as she stepped back to view her sister.

"Oh, Tina, I'm so happy to see you!" Queenie was practically bouncing, she was so excited.

"When did you get here?" Tina was still in shock, and it was only then she realised how much she'd missed her sister's smile in the past week.

"We arrived in England just this afternoon," she announced delightedly, taking up Jacob's hand proudly. "So did you, it would seem."

"Yes," Tina smiled, nodding as her eyes travelled to Jacob.

"Hey, Tina," Jacob greeted fondly, "remember me?"

"Yeah," Tina pretended to think. "You were the guy I saw the other day, stealing my sister across the ocean, right?"

"Hey," Jacob objected good-naturedly as he hugged his future sister-in-law.

"We were just here getting Jacob started on his exemption," Queenie explained, proudly holding up Jacob's temporary exemption notice. "He's safe from being obliviated for the next three months, so we have to get married within that time. We need the marriage certificate as proof, to get the full pardon from the Statute of Secrecy," she explained at seeing Tina's shocked expression. "Oh, come on, Tina, I didn't want to wait anyway. And now, you're here, too. My maid of honour," Queenie was so happy, she flung her arms around her sister again, ignoring the incredulous thoughts of the MACUSA aurors at the realisation she was here to marry a nomaj.

She didn't care. She loved Jacob and he loved her. And Tina supported her. What did it matter what strangers thought?

"I take it, this is your sister, just moved to England, Auror Goldstein?" Graves spoke up, reminding Tina that they were all still standing on a crowded auror department floor, in front of the elevator.

"Yes Sir," Tina answered slowly, gesturing to her sister.

"It's Queenie, isn't it?" Graves asked, stepping forward to take the blond woman's hand.

"Yes Sir," Queenie nodded. "Glad you're back at work." She tilted her head slightly. "Just make sure you remember to eat. You haven't eaten anything all day."

Blinking for a moment, Graves let out a chuckle.

"I guess I need to work on my occlumency then?" He asked.

"No, your occlumency's good," Queenie assured him. "But hunger's more than just a thought, it's a feeling. As a natural legilimens, I read emotions, too. Those are harder to hide." The woman shrugged. "I suppose you could say I'm more of an empath."

"Fascinating," Graves' eyes became more focused.

"But Tina was quite right when she told you I'm a healer, not an investigator," Queenie said firmly. "Rest assured, I have no interest in seeing Grindlewald's mind, and don't want to know anything about your case, unless it affects my sister."

Sighing in defeat, Graves nodded.

"So sorry," a quiet voice interrupted, that made Tina's heartrate increase, "but could we please move this conversation away from the elevator? We appear to be blocking the path."

Tina pretended not to see her sister's smile as eyes turned to a red-haired wizard who had been standing inconspicuously against the wall.

"Newt," Tina could help the smile that appeared on her face as the magizoologist stepped forward, case in hand, as always.

"Hello, Tina," Newt smiled, before ducking his head.

"Newt?" Graves repeated, stepping closer. "Newt Scamander?"

"Yes," the man nodded, eyeing Graves warily.

"Oh, don't worry, he's the real one," Queenie assured him.

"Oh, that's a relief," Newt flashed a smile, though he still tried to keep his case out of sight.

"Percival Graves," Mr Graves stepped forward to claim the man's hand. "I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude, Mr Scamander. If it weren't for you, I'd still be Grindlewald's prisoner."

"Happy to help," Newt ducked his head, as if to try and avoid the attention as all MACUSA eyes focused on him.

"What's going on over here?" A voice called and in moments, Theseus appeared on the scene, to Newt's chagrin.

"Newt," Theseus frowned upon spying his little brother. "What are you doing here?"

"It was my fault Mr Scamander," Queenie spoke up apologetically and Theseus' did a slight double take.

"Newt's a friend of mine," Queenie explained, to Theseus' obvious surprise, "and he's helping me and my fiancé settle in England, and we were just visiting the registration office when I heard that my sister arrived," she gestured to Tina, "and I just had to come by and say 'hello'." Here Queenie lowered her eyes guiltily. "I'm sorry, Sir," she told him, using her large blue eyes to her best advantage. "I didn't mean to cause a fuss. I just wanted to see my sister."

Theseus considered this as he flicked his gaze bemusedly to Newt, before turning to Tina.

"And your name is?" He queried, having yet to memorise all the MACUSA aurors.

"Auror Goldstein, Sir," Tina supplied slowly.

"Goldstein?" Theseus repeated, glancing again at Newt, who was determined not to meet his brother's eye. "As in Tina Goldstein?"

"Yes, Sir," Tina answered.

"Newt told me about you," Theseus smiled, glancing at his brother again. "You were the one who helped him capture Grindlewald, right?"

"Yes Sir," Tina repeated, wondering if that was all Newt had said.

"Good to have you on board," Theseus said after a moment. "Now, Mr Graves, if you wouldn't mind clearing your team out of here? You're blocking the elevator."

"Certainly, Mr Scamander," Graves answered civilly, before gesturing his team to move on, some cast amused looks at Tina, others incredulous looks at Jacob, a couple sent curious glances towards Newt and more than a few cast admiring glances at Queenie as they passed.

Tina, Newt, Queenie, Jacob, Graves and Bennet were in the last elevator going down, Queenie keeping up such a constant stream of chatter, telling Tina about the patisserie they'd seen in London, and that they had to meet up for dinner that night at the Leaky Cauldron, which, incidentally, it transpired, the MACUSA aurors were staying at also, that Newt felt it was purposeful.

~..~..~..~..

Credence had started on his rounds, giving the creatures their evening feed, Dougal holding his hand as usual as he worked, by the time Newt came down to the case.

"Credence," Newt began apologetically, "I am so sorry to leave you for so long. We ended up bumping into my brother and Mr Graves- the real Mr Graves," he explained quickly as Credence's eyes widened.

"We've finally made it to The Leaky Cauldron, where Queenie and Jacob have got their rooms. All the MACUSA aurors are staying here, too," Newt frowned at the inconvenience before brightening up. "So, Jacob and Queenie are getting dinner delivered to them, and we'll all eat down here." He looked as if he was going to continue, before gazing around at his creatures with a smile.

"You've already started," he observed.

"Sorry," Credence ducked his head. "Did you want me to wait for you?"

"No, you've done splendidly," Newt assured him, to the younger man's relief. "Thank you, Credence." Newt's smile grew wider. "I'm glad I can trust my creatures to your care." He rolled up his sleeves.

"Now, I'd better stop being a lazy bugger and help you out," Newt smiled as went to start his work, dealing with the creatures who needed more experienced hands, like the nundu and the runespoor, as well as caring for the new-borns.

After a while, there came a call from the shed. And Newt and Credence arrived to see Jacob and Queenie enter, Queenie expertly levitating a hot meal out onto the deck in front of the shed, as Jacob lay a table she'd conjured.

"Dinner's served, gentlemen," Queenie smiled. "Come get it."

"Oh, I'd missed this place," Jacob grinned as he looked around. "Anything changed, Newt?"

"We've had a couple of mooncalves become pregnant," Newt supplied. "And Dougal's made a new friend in Credence."

"Oh, good," Jacob smiled as the younger man came forward, Dougal at his side. "I got the feeling he got kinda lonely, sometimes."

"He did, I think," Newt agreed sadly. "He is the only demiguise I have, and they are quite rare in the wild. I am grateful to you, for that, Credence," he said, meeting the man's eyes to show his sincerity. "I can't always spend as much time with my creatures as I'd like."

A proud smile, spread slowly across Credence's face as he helped Dougal back into his basket bed and Queenie beamed as she gestured for everyone to sit down.

"Okay everyone, pull up a chair," she invited, having just served up everything.

"We aren't going to wait for Tina?" Newt asked and Credence's head shot up.

"Tina's here?" He asked, his eyes darted to Newt, questioning.

"Yes," Newt admitted, mentally slapping himself at forgetting this detail as he got distracted by his creatures. "She arrived with Mr Graves' team of aurors to help my brother deal with finding Grindlewald. Sorry I didn't mention that earlier."

"She's just getting settled in her room, and then she'll be down," Queenie informed the group as she lay her napkin across her lap. "She told us to start without her, as she may get roped into starting that huge pile of paper work her team were all given earlier."

"She's so looking forward to see you, Credence," Queenie told him. "But, of course we couldn't say anything, what with Theseus and Mr Graves standing right there. Oh, don't worry, honey," Queenie turned her attention to Newt. "She was happy to see you too, she just didn't realise you were even there, standing by the wall, hiding. You should've felt her heart race when you spoke up." Queenie placed her hand against her own heart to emphasise her point as she smiled indulgently.

"Aww," Jacob teased. "But Newt was too busy staring at her with 'heart eyes' to talk." He gave his friend a playful nudge. "Yeah, don't think I didn't see that."

Newt turned beetroot, as Credence's eyes flicked around the faces of everyone at the table, bemused. Every time he'd sat down to dinner with his family, the conversation, if any, was stiff and formal. While staying with Newt this past week, eating was mainly done after the creatures were fed, and consisted of discussions about the creatures, and Newt telling a stories about his encounters with them in the wild, which Credence had found enthralling.

But never, in his life, had he been a part of a table that had held such…banter.

"Can we please change the subject?" Newt asked, desperate for the attention to leave him.

"Oh, Newt, we're not saying this to be mean," Queenie assured him. "it's just: I'm so happy," Queenie's eyes actually began to water as she spoke, showcasing the depth of her emotion. "I'm with the man I love, and plan to marry, and I know our relationship is gonna be accepted here."

Jacob took up Queenie's hand wordlessly, swallowing.

"And I just want everyone to find their own happiness too," she confessed. "Love is the one thing that everyone wants," the woman continued, lowering her eyes pensively. "And it's the one thing everyone deserves. But they let fear get in the way so many times, and it's so sad," Queenie wiped her eyes.

"I know my ability doesn't give me the right to tell people how to live their lives, I accepted that a long time ago," she continued and Newt was listening carefully, for he'd never seen Queenie like this. "But I felt so much fear at the Ministry today, I just wish I could change it to happiness. And you make my sister happy, Newt," Queenie told him sincerely. "She was always scared that she wouldn't achieve much, as an auror. That she wasn't really wanted there. You make her feel wanted, Newt. You make her feel like she's seen. And I know she makes you happy," she continued emphatically. "You can see the strength and beauty in her, just as well as you can see it in your creatures." Queenie swallowed, breathing deeply. "You have no idea how wonderful it is to around people who have such kind and compassionate souls."

Realisation dawned in Newt's eyes.

"That's why you kept on talking as we left the Ministry," Newt surmised.

"It's not always fun, seeing in other people's heads," Queenie admitted, and Newt didn't want to upset the woman further by pressing the matter.

But still…

"Does anyone need help?" Newt asked gently. "Protection?"

"Oh, everyone needs help and protection, sometimes," Queenie sighed. "Especially from themselves." Taking another deep breath, the blond smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she told the table. "I didn't mean to let all that out."

"No, Queenie, it's okay," Jacob said quickly, getting up to give his fiancé a hug. "I know it's not always easy for you."

"Some healer I am," Queenie bit her lip in chagrin. "I wanted to spread happiness, and instead I made everyone sad."

"Queenie, not even a woman as gifted as you can be strong all the time," Newt reassured her. "As you said: everyone need help and protection, sometimes. Even you."

Queenie smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Newt."

Credence stared, his dark eyes studying Queenie with a mixture of awe and empathy.

Here was someone who had been born with a gift she couldn't control. Who had to live with hearing all the thoughts of the people around her. If he'd been damaged simply hearing the spoken words of people who had called him names like 'freak', he could only imagine what Queenie had to live with, each day, hearing all the thoughts and feeling all the emotions of everyone around her, all day, everyday.

And still, she chose to use her power to help others. She chose to see the good in people. She understood that first impressions could easily change, and so didn't take those first thoughts to heart. Instead she accepted that everyone was different, and saw the beauty in that difference.

But still, it must be so difficult, he realised, to be such an accepting person, and then find yourself in a room where there's nothing but prejudice, fear and anger.

Credence noticed Queenie's hand resting on the table close to him. Slowly, he reached out and gently took up her hand with his own, squeezing it in reassurance.

The blond woman's eyes came to rest on him, and he squeezed her hand again.

"You're not alone either, Queenie," he whispered.

"Thank you, Credence, honey." Smiling fondly, Queenie kissed Credence's hand, giving it a squeeze of her own.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, getting up quickly. "Tina's coming down," she announced, rushing to the shed door, everyone else getting up to follow.

Newt tried to focus on slowing his heart rate down a Tina came into view. Their meeting at the Ministry had hardly been close to what he'd hoped for, but seeing her walking out the shed door, that radiant smile on her face, made him realise just how much he'd missed the raven-haired auror.

Fully aware that the delighted smile was firmly back on Queenie's s face, Newt tried to keep control of his thoughts. Though, from Queenie's repressed laughter, he was clearly failing.

Clenching his fingers, Newt wished he had his case in his hands. However, as he clearly didn't, he settled for clasping his hands together behind his back. His emotions he may not be able to control, but he was bloody well going to make sure his hands didn't move to claim Tina's, or some other such overly forward gesture, as the woman came to stand before him.

She was close enough to touch…

"Welcome back, Tina," Newt greeted and was annoyed his voice betrayed him by sounding breathless, he cleared his throat. "It's good to see you."

"You too," Tina's voice was softer than it had been, in front of her superiors at the Ministry. Here, she wasn't an auror. She was just Tina.

Newt preferred her this way.

"Uh," Tina seemed to shake herself out of a reverie. "How's your book coming?" She asked.

"Good," Newt answered. "it just needed a few tweaks, and my editors hope it can be out in the New Year."

"That's great," Tina smiled, happy for him.

"Yes," Newt gave a wry smile. "Let the tedious promotional events begin."

"You'll be fine," Tina smiled in encouragement. "You'll be talking to everyone about your creatures."

"The first one's just after Christmas," Newt announced, swallowing. "I'd love it if you'd come. All of you," he amended quickly, including the rest of his friends, which he'd just remembered were present and watching the entire exchange…

"We'll be there," Tina assured him before turning to Credence.

"Oh, Credence, it's so good to see you," Tina stepped forward to hug the young man close, much like Queenie had, as if he were a favourite nephew, or cousin, she hadn't seen in a long time.

"I'm so happy you're okay." She stepped back, taking his face in her hands.

"Are you okay?" She asked him.

Credence's expression was soft as he nodded, gazing at Tina with something close to adoration.

She was here. The woman who had risked her job to protect him, before she even knew he was an obscurial. The woman who had fought Grindlewald to defend him when she found out he was. The woman who had always accepted him, even when he was just a stranger to her.

She was here.

"Yes," he told Tina. "I'm okay."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _It's going to start getting complicated now, what with MACUSA and the MoM wrestling over jurisdiction while trying to work together to capture Grindlewald, even though neither team really wants to work with the other._

 _I wanted to write Graves as someone who is used to being the person in power, and uses subtle methods and charm to get what he wants or to make his point, when needed. He's not above using underhanded techniques, if it means that the truth is uncovered, but it must be well justified. He'd rather keep the peace, but will not take any insult he doesn't feel he deserves._

 _Whereas Theseus, (named after a Greek hero) I think would be more direct in his approach. He believes responsibility is important and people should always be held accountable where necessary. This, unfortunately can give him a bit of a us/them, mentality: even though his heart is in the right place, he can have a rather rigid view on things._

 _Then we have Jacob and Queenie, just moved to a brand-new country and have to start a new life out of practically nothing, which is highly difficult to do, even in the best of times, let alone when there's a maniac escaped from prison who wants to place all non-magical people under the heel of his boot._

 _I hadn't planned on writing Queenie's speech at the dinner table at the end, it just appeared on the computer screen. However, after reading it, I was thinking of the kind of thoughts and emotions Queenie would be experiencing in a room like that, where there is so much fear and tension. And I realised that, while she was often the one trying to remind others that they were not alone, Queenie often is alone, in that she's the only legilimens. And while people around her are getting overwhelmed by their own feelings, she's the only one experiencing everyone's feelings._

 _And I thought she just might need a reminder that she had friends that she could talk to, as well._

 _Then there's Newt, who cares more about 'saving Credence' than 'saving the world'. I'm also thinking Leta Lestrange may turn up at a promotional event for his book at some point, too…_

 _She is after all, mentioned as turning up in the next movie._

 _Newt, being a Hufflepuff, just wants to help people. He has no grand ideas about capturing Grindlewald- that time in New York had been coincidental, at most. All he wants to do is protect his creatures, publish his book, make sure Credence stays safe, and hopefully work up the courage to ask Tina to dinner. Not necessarily in that order._

 _But Dumbledore, knowing his old friend is on the run again, would want to try and find him before MACUSA or the MoM do. But, while he knows Grindlewald, he doesn't know how to find something when you don't know where to look. However, Newt, who had dealt with Grindlewald before, and has experience tracking down creatures who were difficult to find, has the experience Dumbledore need to tap into._

 _Dumbledore also wants to help protect Credence, and keep him hidden from Grindlewald, and the Ministry. I'm thinking of having him tell Credence about his sister, in a future chapter, perhaps to explain why he's so vested in protecting him._

 _Then, of course, there's Tina, who I think will struggle with doing her job and her loyalties to MACUSA verses protecting Credence and following her heart._

 _I wanted her reunion with Newt to be more about what they don't say and do, more than anything else. Newt and Tina, I think are both very insecure, cautious people, when it comes to relationships. And, as Leta will be introduced later, I think there will be an opportunity, not for a love triangle, but definitely for some misunderstandings. As Queenie says, everyone wants love, but often let their fears get in the way._

 _And, just like how Tina lost her job protecting Credence in New York. I get the feeling that her desire to do the right thing by her own moral compass will conflict with her duty as an auror to do things right by the law._

 _And last, but definitely not least, there's Credence. I see him as practically idolising Tina, possibly even seeing her as the true maternal figure in his life, due to the fact that she tried to protect him from the beginning. But, with Grindlewald now out, he realises that he still has the potential to lose control. However, upon meeting Queenie, especially hearing her at the dinner table, he's learning how important it is to express emotion and beginning to understand Batini's lesson of how control and suppression are not the same, and which is actually the more helpful of the two._

 _But what will he choose to do with his emotions? If you've been repressing everything your entire life, what happens when you suddenly allow them to surface?_

 _Okay, I've really written enough now. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask._

 _And please leave a review- I love feedback, and my writing won't get better, otherwise._

 _Thank you for reading,_

 _Celino._


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note: Hello everybody! Thank you so much for the reads, follows, favourites and reviews! Here is chapter 6, I hope you like it._

 _(Disclaimer: I reference a real, non-harry potter related book in the latter part of this chapter. The verse in italics belongs to Florence Scovel Shinn, and not me.)_

~..~..~..~..

Credence had a strange sense of confusion when he woke up that morning and, instead of lying on the cot in Newt's case, had found himself in a large four poster bed with green velvet curtains.

It was his first full day of being at Hogwarts. He was going to have a lesson with Professor Imamu that morning, and another with Professor Dumbledore in the afternoon, but otherwise, he was allowed to spend the day as he wished. He was planning on visiting the library, as he wanted to do some research of his own regarding the wizarding world.

August had also offered to show him the Quidditch pitch and the herbology classrooms, before challenging him to another chess game. Credence had proven to be a very fast learner, and they'd soon started a chess competition. They were currently tied two-to-two and August wanted to pull ahead before Christmas arrived.

Credence felt himself smiling. He hadn't really had any friends growing up, and while he enjoyed spending time with Newt, Tina, Queenie and Jacob, it was nice spending time with someone younger.

Credence now sat in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, writing in his journal before breakfast as he usually did.

"You sure write a lot."

Credence looked up to see August coming into the room to sit in the chair opposite him.

"I'm more comfortable writing, than talking," Credence confessed and August nodded.

"I'm not surprised," he commented, raising an eyebrow. "You are pretty shy. You know," he put forward slowly, "if you ever want to tell me to bugger off or anything, that's okay."

"Oh, no," Credence was quick to assure him. "It's nice having the company."

August smiled before gesturing to the book in Credence's hands.

"So," he began curiously, "what have you been writing about?"

Lowering his eyes, Credence closed his journal before holding it close to his chest.

"Private, huh?" August surmised. "My apologies. I wouldn't want someone nosing in on my private thoughts either."

Credence swallowed.

"I've just been reflecting on things," he admitted quietly. "I like to write them down. List the good things that have happened. That way," he continued haltingly, avoiding Augusts' eyes. "If I feel myself focusing on the bad…I can remind myself of the good things in my life when my mind can't remember them."

A look of comprehension dawned in August's face.

"So, you've had a lot of bad things happen to you?" He pressed gently, and Credence nodded.

"Like what?" August asked without thinking and watched as Credence shrank further into himself.

"No, I'm sorry," August spoke up quickly. "Forgive my morbid curiosity."

Suddenly, a feeling of cold seemed to ripple through the room, and the fire in the hearth flickered and died.

August stood up in concern at the sudden change, appearing to breathe out steam as the temperature in the room dropped further.

Credence began to rock slightly in the armchair and August had the sneaking suspicion that he was the cause for the sudden cold.

"Credence?" August asked cautiously as he watched the man close his eyes, breathing deeply as he hugged his journal tightly to his chest.

"Newt, Tina, Queenie, Jacob, Imamu, Dumbledore," he whispered, like a mantra. "Newt, Tina, Queenie, Jacob, Imamu, Dumbledore."

"Credence?" August stepped closer as Credence continued to chant the names of his friends under his breath.

Slowly, Credence opened his eyes, and August felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature as he noticed the man's eyes had turned white.

"Newt, Tina, Queenie, Jacob, Imamu, Dumbledore," Credence continued to chant. Closing his eyes once more, Credence's head fell back against the headrest of the armchair.

"Willow…" he breathed.

Credence shot out a hand, and August jumped slightly as fire flew from the man's palm into the empty fireplace, the flames' roar seeming to fill the room.

August felt his mouth drop as he realised that Credence had, not only just done non-verbal magic, but wandless magic.

Credence was standing now, staring at the flames he'd created in the hearth as slowly, the temperature of the room returned to normal.

Taking a deep breath, he lowered his arm.

"I did it," Credence smiled as he turned away from the hearth and August was relieved to see his eyes were once again brown. "I controlled it on my own."

"Controlled what?" August asked warily, but Credence appeared too lost in his mind to pay him any heed.

"I feel much better now," the man said as he picked up his journal from where it had fallen onto the floor.

"Let's go down for breakfast," Credence suggested, heading to the door.

Confused, wary, but very curious, August followed him out of the common room.

~..~..~..

Newt had just emerged from his case after feeding his creatures, and had begun making himself breakfast when a tapping sound came from his window.

Looking up, he saw an owl he recognised as his parents' sitting on the window sill.

Feeling a slight twinge of trepidation, Newt let the owl in and picked up the letter, noting it was from his mother.

He hadn't had contact with his mother since his last letter, and cautiously opened it, wondering if he was in for another berating regarding his lack of communication.

 _Dear Newt,_ he read.

 _I received word from Theseus, informing me that you have friends from New York, currently staying in London, and that you're helping them move here._

 _He also informed me that you were one of the people who helped to capture Grindlewald in New York, along with an auror named Tina Goldstein, who is also currently staying in London, as her ministry is helping ours track this madman down._

 _Now, when you wrote that New York had been 'considerably more exciting' than you had expected, I hadn't realised it had meant that you'd encountered the most feared wizard alive today!_

 _Of course, you know I worry about you, Newt, but I have to say, son, I am highly disappointed that you felt, for whatever reason, you could not inform me of all this yourself._

 _I, of course, must insist that you invite your American friends to join us for Christmas, and I expect you all to be here for Christmas Eve dinner. Everyone is, of course, welcome to stay at the manor overnight. We have plenty of room for your guests and it would be wonderful to have the house filled with people, for a change._

 _I'm looking forward to seeing you, and meeting your American friends, especially this auror who helped capture Grindlewald._

 _I expect you to rsvp soon,_

 _Your Mother._

Newt sighed, banging his head slightly onto the dining table.

Theseus had been busy trying to locate Grindlewald, how had he found the time to write to their mother?

That had really been an underhanded move, Newt realised, and he wondered what could have possessed his brother to do such a thing.

Newt loved his mother dearly. After all, she was the one who nurtured his own love for magical creatures. And of course, Newt knew his mother always meant well, however, he just wasn't comfortable with the idea of her meeting Tina just yet, and he felt himself blushing at the thought of some of the stories his mother was fond of telling, which only caused him embarrassment.

Then there was his father, and Newt swallowed nervously.

His father had always been a highly respectable man. A former Head Auror himself, he had often shown disappointment in Newt's shy nature, often telling him to follow Theseus' lead, growing up.

He'd been livid when Newt had been expelled from school and had only corresponded with him whenever necessary since then. Which hadn't been often.

And while Newt respected his father, he wasn't so worried his father may put him down, as always, whilst in front of his friends. He was more worried about his father insulting Tina, Queenie or Jacob.

Because, that was his father: He was right, and if you disagreed with his opinion, that was your problem.

Newt sighed, knowing how his mother would take it personally if he refused the invite now.

Standing up, Newt felt as if he were preparing to wrangle a beast as he put on his coat.

He could always just write to his mother, saying his friends couldn't make it, he considered before dismissing the idea.

It wouldn't work, he knew.

Picking up his case, he disapparated.

~..~..~..~

"Why did Grindlewald have to ruin Christmas?"

Tina looked up as Charles Bennet sent her a smirk across the table.

"Seriously," he continued as he flicked over another page. "Christmas day is a week away. We all should be at home with our family, or getting our last-minute shopping done. And instead, we're in England, going over written interviews until our eyes hurt." He put down the pile of parchment he'd been studying for the past hour to rub his eyes.

"Not the best way to spend Christmas, you're right, Bennet," Tina granted with a sigh, keeping her voice low, despite the fact that the Leaky Cauldron was filled with only the MACUSA aurors at the moment. "But, Grindlewald has, understandably, been keeping a low profile. The only way we can anticipate his moves, is by studying what we know of him. And what we know of him," Tina held up her parchment, "is in these pages we all got."

"Well, at least you've got your sister here," Bennet told her with a smile. "That's something."

Tina smiled. Queenie and Jacob were out today, talking with the agent and owner regarding the patisserie on the main street, and were putting their names down to get the property. Thankfully, Jacob had letters of recommendation from his bank, as well as a few of his past customers, and Tina was sure they were in for a good chance.

It had been wonderful, to catch up with her sister, and Jacob yesterday evening. And to see Newt again. She was happy his book was getting published and was looking forward to attending as many promotional events with him as possible, to show her support. And then to see Credence, alive and well, with her own eyes! He was looking so much better. He was still shy and preferred to observe, but he was getting more confident to put in a word or two more in each conversation, and listened well, seeming to relax more around Newt's kind assurances, Jacob's relaxed banter and Queenie's ability to know when he wanted to say something, but was afraid to speak up.

Now, however, Credence was at Hogwarts, spending his first official day as a guest at the castle. Tina hoped she'd be able to visit the school, and see what this famous place was like.

"Maybe that's why Graves only picked aurors who were either single, didn't have kids or both," Bennet mused aloud. "Less of a sacrifice over the holidays."

"Maybe," Tina granted, only half listening as she studied the transcript of the interrogation before her.

It really wasn't surprising that they hadn't heard any sign of Grindlewald. The man had hidden in plain sight in America, as one of their own aurors, for months, without anyone noticing. For while he believed in 'mass slaughter for the greater good' he was smart enough to not leave clues that would trace back to him.

Whenever Grindlewald did decide to show himself, it would be when he wanted to and not before.

Tina sighed, slapping her own stack of parchments on the table in frustration. It was like-

Tina froze.

Like searching for something invisible.

And how do you find something invisible?

"With immense difficulty," Newt's voice spoke in her mind, making her smile.

But no, that wasn't it…

 _Tracks._

Even if something is invisible. It still leaves tracks. It still effects things around them.

You can't see the demiguise, but you can see the handbag its carrying…

"Tina?"

Tina looked up to see Charles Bennet staring at her.

"What is it?" He asked. "You look like you just thought of something."

"Probably nothing," she admitted.

"Hey," Bennet shrugged, straightening up, "even something that's a little bit of something, is better than the nothing we've found so far."

"Okay," Tina leaned forward to conspire over the table. "There's this creature that Newt has, called a demiguise," she began.

"Newt," Bennet repeated. "He's the monster guy, right?"

"They're not monsters," Tina said defensively without thinking, "but yes."

"Okay," Bennet raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Please forgive my ignorance. What's a demiguise?"

"It's a creature that can turn invisible," Tina supplied.

"Invisible?" Bennet repeated, incredulously. "How do you catch something that's invisible?"

Tina smiled.

"Tracks," she answered. "Even if something is invisible, you can see the effect it has on its surroundings."

Bennet frowned.

"What are you getting at?"

"Trying to find Grindlewald right now, is like trying to find the demiguise." Tina explained. "He's underground, he's invisible. We don't even know if he's in Britain. But," she continued, "if we study the surroundings, we may see the effect he's having as he moves. This," Tina held up the parchment transcript, "is Grindlewald's past. And while it can give clues, there's nothing showing the effect he's having _right now_."

Bennet lowered his eyes, thinking seriously before meeting Tina's gaze once more.

"We're studying the wrong things, aren't we?" He asked. "Searching in the wrong place?"

Tina nodded, her mind racing.

"We need to look at the papers," she realised. "And not just the English ones," she added. "All across Europe."

Spying Mr Graves entering the inn's dining room, looking weary, and ordering a large coffee, Tina got up.

"Mr Graves?"

"Morning Goldstein," Graves tried to smile as he sat down. "I hope you're having more luck than I am." Theseus Scamander had been insistent on taking charge for practically the entire investigation thus far. Graves had the impression the man was fearful he would try to keep secrets from him.

An understandable assumption, Graves granted, but still…

"That depends, sir," Tina admitted taking a seat beside him. "Have we been checking the papers lately?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, so Tina explained her epiphany regarding Grindlewald's similarity to the demiguise.

"We've been keeping an eye on the British papers," Graves nodded, "though there aren't many linguists on the investigative team, so admittedly," he breathed, "we haven't checked others in Europe ourselves, leaving it to the respective ministries."

"But Grindlewald was able to infiltrate MACUSA," Tina reminded him gently. "What's to stop him doing something similar? He could give misinformation."

Catching Tina's eye as he considered the possibilities, he nodded thoughtfully.

"You make a good point, Auror Goldstein," he mused.

Graves mentally berated himself as he digested Tina's suggestion. Being held prisoner for six months may have fired his determination but it had clearly dulled his senses.

How could he have been so blind?

Grindlewald knew the British ministry and MACUSA had encountered him in the past, so why would he be risk being caught by either county?

And as both were English speaking countries, what better way to hide than in an area they couldn't easily track him down in?

Reaching into his pocket, Graves drew out a map of Europe that he and Theseus had been studying the previous night.

"Thought of something sir?" Tina queried, as Graves' eyes focused on the parchment.

"Maybe," He murmured.

They had focused so much on where Grindlewald had _been_. He had been in Britain as a youth and had connections here. His own aunt, Bathilda Bagshot, was living in Godrics Hollow, Graves having interviewed her yesterday afternoon, regarding her nephew.

She hadn't been very forthcoming, other than telling stories of how he'd befriended Albus Dumbledore as a teenager. Graves recalled Tina mentioning the name in her testimony at the hospital and endeavoured to meet the Hogwarts professor as soon as possible.

Graves paused.

Hogwarts…

"That's what we missed," he breathed.

"Sir?"

Graves looked up to see Tina still present.

"If you want to usurp the status quo, you need followers," Graves stated, grateful for the sound board. "And the best way to find followers is to go where you'll be likely to find people who are like yourself."

"Yes," Tina nodded, and Bennet slowly approached, seeing the energy beginning to fill their boss. The other aurors also began to look around curiously.

"Now, I think we are correct, that Grindlewald is in Europe," Graves continued. "He's familiar with the territory. But," he countered, holding up a finger, as more of his team began to gather to hear his theory. "We only know of where he's been." He sighed as he lowered his head, berating himself again.

"We've been focusing so much on his past," Graves shook his head. "That was our mistake. I think you have a good point, Auror Goldstein, we're looking in the wrong place," he told Tina. "Look," he gestured to the map on the table as his team gathered round.

"If you want followers in the wizarding world, you have to go where there are strong, old, wizarding communities," he stated. "And the places with the highest populations of wizards are where the schools are. Now, there are three major schools of wizardry in Europe. Durmstrang," he pointed to the general known location.

"Grindlewald went to Durmstrang," Bennet recalled.

"Yes, but he wouldn't go there," Graves shook a finger in the negative. "Too obvious, and Grindlewald is smart enough to know to avoid his old haunts."

He drew his finger down the map to Britain.

"Then, there's Hogwarts," Graves continued. "Britain's another place you'd find powerful, pure blood families, who you could potentially draw to your cause. However, again," he raised a finger, "too obvious. We're here, Grindlewald has both our ministries looking for him. Too easy to be caught before you're ready to make your move. But there's another," Graves pointed.

"Beauxbatons," he stated. "A powerful wizarding community in a non-english speaking country. It's not a place he's known to have been in before, but," Graves drew a line from Durmstrang down to Hogwarts, going through France as he did so, "he'd be acquainted with it at least, via his travels."

Graves slapped his hand on the table in frustration.

"France," he muttered. "We've been looking in the wrong place."

Looking up, he saw his team staring and took a breath.

"This still just a theory," he admitted, "so we need to investigate to confirm."

"I'll send a letter to Auror Scamander," Bennet spoke up quickly.

"Do that," Graves nodded. "And ask if there's anyone in his ministry who can speak French, while you're at it."

~..~..~..~..

Newt entered Theseus' office to find his brother drinking tea as he studied yet another file, surrounded by maps with various blinking lights.

"Newt," Theseus greeted slowly, clearly having had a long night. "Morning. Trying to find a pattern." Theseus explained, waving a hand at the maps surrounding him. "Trying to figure out what his next move will likely be."

"Any luck?" Newt asked.

"No," His brother sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"You know," Newt began, his annoyance at his brother fading upon seeing how exhausted he seemed, "when tracking creatures in the wild, I found that there were always certain things that would draw them."

Theseus looked up and Newt swallowed. "It would usually be a food or water source," he continued nervously. "Find out _what_ those things are, then find out _where_ those things are, and sooner or later, they'll come to you."

"What are you getting at, Newt?" Theseus was too tired for games.

"What's Grindlewald looking for?" Newt prompted. "If you can find out what he wants, then locate the areas he'll most likely find what he's looking for," the younger Scamander shrugged, "sooner or later, he'll turn up."

Theseus was saved from commenting as an owl flew in and dropped a letter on the table.

Opening it, Theseus frowned as he read.

"What is it?" Newt asked.

"Mr Graves has an idea," Theseus answered slowly. "He basically says that: as Grindlewald is looking for followers, the best places to look are those communities in Europe who have wizarding schools, as those areas would have the highest concentration of Pure blood wizards who would be likely to join his cause. There's Durmstrang, which is too familiar, he'd be caught easily. Then Hogwarts, but Britain is too dangerous, due to having two ministries working here. That leaves Beauxbatons, in France."

"Mr Graves thinks Grindlewald may be in France?" Newt queried, considering. "Sounds plausible."

"Interesting though," Theseus continued pensively. "Graves used the same logic you just did." The auror eyed his brother with suspicion. "You're not helping the competition, are you, brother mine?"

Newt rocked back slightly on his heels at the accusation.

"First of all, MACUSA is not 'the competition'," he began, "they are trying to achieve the same goal we are: capturing Grindlewald as soon as possible. Secondly," Newt continued before his brother could retort, "I have not given them any assistance since I was in New York. But still," he continued. "If I were to be asked for help by either you or MACUSA, I would give it." And here, he looked his brother in the eye.

"Because we are on the same side," he finished firmly.

Theseus hung his head.

"Yes, of course, Newt, you're right. I'm sorry," he took a breath as Newt tried to process the fact his brother had said he was right about something.

"You appear exhausted, brother mine," Newt told him.

"Thanks," Theseus gave a wry smile. "Mother says I'd better give someone else the Christmas shift so that I can get some proper food."

"Ah, speaking of mother," Newt spoke up. "I received a letter from her this morning."

"Oh?" Theseus raised his eyebrows, indicating to Newt that he knew exactly what this was about, and was waiting for his little brother to say it himself.

"She asked for Tina, Jacob and Queenie to come stay with us over Christmas," Newt stated.

"Really?"

"The thing is," Newt continued, "I never told her about them."

"Yes, I was surprised at that," Theseus nodded, unrepentant. "I thought you'd have loved to introduce your new girlfriend-"

"Tina's not my girlfriend," Newt stammered, yet he could feel himself blushing and the grin appearing on Theseus' face told Newt that his brother knew exactly why that was.

"Not _yet_?" Theseus suggested cheekily, only to be served a glare from his younger brother.

"Oh, come now, Newt," Theseus was genuinely hurt by his brother's annoyance. "I was trying to help."

Newt was sceptical.

"Oh really?" He asked.

"You wouldn't let your friends be alone on their first Christmas in England, would you?" Theseus asked.

"I was actually planning on spending Christmas eve with all of you, then Christmas day with all of them," Newt supplied.

"Well," Theseus smiled. "Now you can spend both days with all of us. Won't mother be happy?"

"She'll be ecstatic," Newt admitted with a sigh.

'Oh, Merlin, help me.'

~..~..~..~..

Tina was in her room at the Leaky Cauldron when Queenie came rushing in excitedly.

"Tina, we got it!" Queenie wrapped her sister in a hug. "We got the patisserie and the apartment!"

"Really?" Tina gaped. "That was so quick."

"Oh, the owner was so happy when we said we wanted to move in right away," Queenie explained. "We should be open by the new year!"

"Congratulations," Tina was happy for her sister. "Wait. So, you're going to run the bakery with Jacob?"

"Yeah," Queenie nodded. "My strudel's already going on the list of things to sell. Besides," she continued, "It'll be tough starting out in a new place like this, and Jacob'll need help. Also," Queenie added thoughtfully, "I was thinking of having Credence help out, too."

"Credence?" Tina repeated.

"Yeah," Queenie nodded. "He'll need a paying job and Jacob will need a hand. I can help Credence continue to heal, and he can spend time with Jacob. It'll be good for both of them," Queenie smiled. "Credence has never known a father and Jacob is so sweet…he'll be a good role model for him."

A slight frown creased Tina's forehead.

"Oh, I'm not saying Newt's not a good role model, Teenie," Queenie was quick to assure her sister. "I'm just thinking, with Newt going to be busy soon, promoting his book, Jacob could help Credence out. The apartment even has two bedrooms," Queenie added. "Credence could stay with us, until he's earned enough to get his own place. He can't stay in Newt's case forever."

Tina shook her head with a smile. Her sister had it all planned out.

"Jacob says it's okay," Queenie told Tina. "At least, once everything's settled: Once we're married, and the bakery's up and running. Oh, that reminds me," here, Queenie reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Tina excitedly.

Wondering what other surprises her sister had been working on, Tina opened to paper to find herself staring at a marriage certificate.

"We're getting married after boxing day!" Queenie squealed, practically bouncing on her heels.

Tina's jaw dropped at the date. And Queenie's smiled dropped as she gave her sister a look of disappointment.

"Jacob's always been a perfect gentleman, Tina," She scolded, hearing the unspoken question. "I can't believe you'd think that."

"Sorry," Tina cringed. "I'm sure he is, but, Queenie…"

"Oh, Teenie, I didn't want to wait," Queenie heard the shock in her sister's mind. "And I don't want a big wedding. We'll just go to the city hall. I just want you to be there. That's all I need."

Tina smiled at seeing how happy her sister was. If only people could be more like her, the world would be a happier place to live in.

"Oh, Tina," Queenie wrapped her sister in a hug.

"You sure this is what you want?" Tina asked as she pulled back to meet her sister's gaze.

"Yes," Queenie nodded surely, beaming. "I'm sure."

Tina nodded.

"Then, as your Maid of Honour," she made a small curtsey, "I will do everything I can to help your wedding day go off without a hitch."

~..~..~..~..

Credence returned from his lesson with Professor Imamu, to find August leaning against the fireplace.

"Doing non-verbal magic is difficult enough," the teenager began slowly, staring into the flames. "But wandless magic…only the most powerful wizards in the world are said to be able to do that. However," he turned to Credence, "most wizards who have mastered wandless magic don't need to continue having lessons on how to use it."

Credence took a sharp breath.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"I may have used a chameleon charm to follow you to your lesson today," August confessed, shrugging. "I was curious."

Credence swallowed.

"So," August began conversationally. "I find that my new housemate is past schooling age, incredibly powerful and yet still requires lessons. He's also had an apparently rough history, has moved here very quickly from America," here, he slaps a newspaper down onto the coffee table, and Credence sees Grindlewald's face staring up at him, "where the most dangerous wizard alive was captured, then escaped. Interesting point," August continued casually, "the details regarding the capture are vague, but my father has connections over in MACUSA, and there were apparently rumours that Grindlewald had been trying to harness an obscurial."

Credence's head shot up.

"An obscurial," the Head boy continued with a smile, "that was apparently killed after being hit by about a dozen or so spells."

Credence swallowed again, eyes wide.

Smiling lightly, August sat down in a chair, completely relaxed.

"Story time?" He prompted. "I do love stories."

Slowly, Credence moved to sit opposite his housemate and, taking a deep breath, Credence began his story.

~..~..~..~..

"That is _bloody_ brilliant."

Credence stared at August in shock as a grin spread across the teenager's face.

"What?" Credence asked flatly.

"Well, I've heard of obscurials," the Head boy admitted. "There're a couple of books on them in the library. I can show you, if you like," he grinned further as his new housemate continued to stare.

"Wait," Credence leaned forward, studying August's face carefully. "You're not afraid of me?"

"Why would I be?" August asked. "You controlled it this morning. That was what was happening, yes?"

"I've killed people," Credence reminded the teenager, keeping his voice low.

"You couldn't control it then," August waved off the confession like a fly. "Not your fault. From what you told me, it was more like comeuppance, than anything else, anyway."

Credence continued to stare.

"And now you can control it. Completely." August laughed. "Amazing! Wandless, non-verbal magic!" He crowed. "I love it! Do you even have a wand?"

Credence took out his wand to show his housemate.

"But you don't need this to do magic?" August pressed as he examined it.

"Not really," Credence admitted. "But I like using it. Especially if the spell requires more finesse than just-"

"Burning down the common room?" August supplied with a grin.

"I didn't burn down the common room," Credence defended.

"No, you didn't," August agreed as he handed the wand back. "Even with all that power. You must be incredibly powerful, no wonder you're the oldest obscurial known." The teenager leaned forward eagerly. "Do you know anything about your wizarding family history?"

Credence shook his head.

"I was adopted," he explained.

"Your birth name's not even on your adoption papers?" August frowned.

Credence shook his head.

"Just the name of my adoptive mother, the orphanage she got me from and the name she gave me," Credence supplied. "And my birthday," he added.

"Bugger," August rubbed his jaw pensively. "It might've given us a clue."

"To what?"

"To _why_ you're the most powerful obscurial known," August explained as if it were obvious. "There is no recorded obscurial living past ten," he reminded Credence. "How is it, that you've survived as long as you have?"

Credence shrugged.

"Well, finding out who your real parents were, may give us a clue on that." August smiled. "A powerful obscurial would only come from a powerful family."

"I think my birth mother, at least, may have been a witch," Credence admitted, remembering his Ma's words.

August considered this.

"Do you have your adoption papers with you?" He asked.

"They're in my bag," Credence answered as August stood up. "Why?"

"Because Hogwarts has very extensive records, even from overseas," the Head Boy answered, his mind mulling over various ideas as he began to pace in front of the common room fire. "If your mother was a witch, her death would be recorded somewhere. We get your birthday, and the muggle orphanage you got sent to, then we trace back through the records, find any wizarding couples who died at a similar time, and that should at least give us a starting point."

Credence stared.

"You want to help me find my birth family?" He asked slowly.

"Yes," August nodded simply.

"Why?"

The teenager tilted his head slightly, considering.

"I'm a Slytherin," he answered with a shrug. "And you, my friend, have presented me with a very intriguing mystery. One I would like to solve. And while Ravenclaws are known to be the intelligent house, if there is one thing that Slytherins like, it is a challenge." He chuckled at the bemused look on Credence's face.

"You're one of us now, Credence," August told him. "And Hufflepuffs aren't the only loyal house. We're just harder to win over. Now, go fetch your adoption papers," he instructed. "We've got to get started."

"I have a lesson with Dumbledore…" Credence began.

"Then I've got to get started," August amended. "And you can meet me in the library when you're done."

"August…" Credence was genuinely confused as well as grateful.

"Credence," the teenager told him. "If you weren't here, I would be on my own in this entire dorm, because my family are busy sucking up to whatever government official at whichever vacation spot they've decided to go to this year. And you have now presented me with a mystery that is infinitely more intriguing than reading through my potions notes from last term. So believe me, Credence, when I say: _thank you_ for making my Christmas break far more interesting than I'd expected."

"You're welcome," Credence stammered. "And thank you for your help. But, August," he continued. "If the Ministry, or MACUSA found out I was still alive…"

"Don't worry," the Head Boy assured him. "Your secret is safe with me."

~..~..~..~

That night, everyone gathered together at Jacob's new apartment-Queenie was still staying at the Leaky Cauldron, until the wedding- to celebrate his up and coming bakery.

"Congratulations, Jacob!" Everyone cheered as they raised their glasses.

"Thanks guys," the baker smiled as he held Queenie's hand under the table. "And thank you, Newt," Jacob raised his glass, "for once again, giving me the collateral to open a bank account here to get the money I need for this place to get up and running."

"Oh, my pleasure," Newt ducked his head bashfully as his friends raised their glasses to toast him. "Though, as they're the same egg shells I gave you before," he clarified, "I don't think 'thanks' are necessary, twice."

"Always so modest," Tina smiled as she sipped her wine. "Or is this a British thing?"

"No, just a Newt thing," Queenie smiled as Newt blushed.

Credence turned to Jacob slowly.

"Queenie told me you might need some help with the bakery, Mr Kowalski," he began hesitantly.

"Please, Credence, call me 'Jacob'," the baker smiled easily at the young man. "And yeah, she ran that idea by me too. You ever baked before?"

"No," Credence admitted. "But, I'm willing to learn."

"And from what I hear," Jacob told him, "you're a pretty fast learner, too." The baker smiled and was rewarded when the younger man smiled back.

"Tell you what," Jacob proposed. "After Christmas, you can have a few baking lessons with me. If you like it, you can work as an assistant here."

"Thank you, Sir," Credence smiled in a mixture of relief and gratitude. He'd never had a paying job before, and was looking forward to being able to earn his own money.

Cautiously, Credence took the first sip of his drink, cringing slightly at the taste.

"Not a wine person, huh?" Jacob chuckled at the expression on the younger man's face

"Oh, sorry, honey," Queenie apologised quickly. "I knew you hadn't drunk alcohol before, so I didn't know what you'd like."

"It's alright," Credence said, wiping his mouth.

"I'll make you some lemonade," Queenie was quick to get up, despite Credence's mental protests that it wasn't necessary.

"While I'm doing this," Queenie called from the apartment kitchenette, where lemons were juicing themselves, "you can tell everyone what happened this morning."

All eyes turned to the young man in question and he cleared his throat nervously in a manner that reminded Tina strangely of Newt.

"I had an... episode, this morning," he announced to the table, meeting Newt's eyes meaningfully.

"Your obscurus?" Newt asked, eyes widening. "What happened?"

"My housemate," Credence explained hesitantly, "asked me about my past, and I had a sudden memory of…" here, he fell silent, and wordlessly, turned over his hand, revealing his palm, where his adoptive mother used to strike him with the belt buckle.

"Keep going Credence," Queenie sang from the kitchen.

"I could feel the obscurus latch onto that painful memory," Credence continued, stammering slightly. "And it started to spread in my chest," he pressed his hand against his ribcage in emphasis.

"And then what?' Newt asked.

"I realised that, the obscurus was using my past memories, my past pain, to try and escape, that was its outlet, my negative emotions." Credence announced, lifting his eyes to view his friends. "So, remembering how I calmed down that first day at Hogwarts, instead of focusing on the pain from my past, I wanted to focus on the friends I had, right now. I thought of all of you," he told them haltingly, and Tina felt herself becoming emotional and she took up Credence's hand.

"I just kept repeating your names, over and over," Credence continued. He wasn't often comfortable speaking, but he felt that this time, it was important, and he wanted to say it all. "I reminded myself of all the kindness you've shown me. Tina, who is always standing up for me," he squeezed the auror's hand and Tina smiled at him, a tear falling silently down her cheek.

"Newt, always showing compassion to everyone he meets," Credence met the magizoologists eyes and Newt felt his throat tighten as he swallowed.

"Queenie, you're always seeing the good in people, no matter what," he told her, and the woman came over to plant a kiss on his cheek, fondly. "And Jacob," he turned to the baker, "you're always trying to make people feel at ease, you're always trying to bring a smile."

Jacob lay a hand on Credence's shoulder, unable to speak.

"And as the happier memories filled me," Credence continued, "the obscurus slowed down, becoming more relaxed, rather than wild. And I knew it wasn't going to attack anymore." Credence smiled as the full implication of what he'd just said hit him.

"You all saved me from the obscurus, and I can't thank you enough for that," he finished and Tina was quick to wrap him up in a hug.

"Do you mean to say, it's gone, Credence?" Newt asked curiously, drawing the younger man's attention

"I don't think I'll ever be able to get rid of it," he confessed. "It's as much a part of me now, as any of my organs. But I think can manage it, now." Credence smiled through his tears as he took in the faces of his friends.

"I can manage it," he repeated. Reaching for his glass, which Queenie had filled with the lemonade she'd whipped up, he held it up in a toast.

"To friendship," he said.

"To friendship," everyone echoed, raising their own glasses.

Newt wiped his eyes quickly before taking a sip of his drink. That had been the longest Newt had ever heard Credence speak, and it was clear that every word had come from the heart.

"Credence, I'm so proud of you," he spoke up, gaining the younger man's attention. "To have gained complete control over such a powerful force in such a short amount of time…it's a miracle."

"Thank you, Newt," Credence felt his heart swell at the praise. "But, I have to admit, I don't think I have complete control. I think, if I were pushed, it would break free again. And also," he qualified, "I've been controlling it, or more precisely, supressing it, for years. It's only just been recently that I've learned the proper way to ensure it doesn't hurt anyone. So," he nodded to himself, "I think I've had more of an epiphany, today, than anything else. It'll still take time."

"But you're no longer afraid of it?" Newt pressed.

Credence paused as he considered his answer.

"I don't think it was my fear of the obscurus that was the issue," Credence began thoughtfully. "It was my self-loathing because of it. I thought I was a monster. Ma made me think I was a monster. But then, when I came here, and I met all of you," Credence voice faltered as he began to become emotional again, "and you all accepted me, without question or conditions…I think it was that, which helped me change my perspective, more than anything else." Nodding to himself, Credence wiped his eyes. "So, while I know I still have a long way to go…For the first time in a long time I feel the…possibility, that things are going to work out okay for me." He swallowed as his throat contracted again. "So, thank you, all of you, for that."

"This is what friends are for, Credence," Jacob assured the younger man, his eyes genuine. "We help each other out."

Letting out a long breath, Credence stood up and began to pace, shaking out his hands, as if to release tension.

Queenie turned to Credence, seeming to hear something in his mind that caught her attention. "Hey Credence," she began. "While you're up, could you make a fire?" She pointed to the empty fire place. "I haven't had a chance to make one yet, and the warming charms only do so much in this weather."

"Okay," Credence was happy to help, and shot out a hand, sending flames streaming into the hearth, where they burned merrily, warming the room faster than would be expected.

"Woah," Jacob applauded as the others joined in, this being the first time Tina and Queenie had seen Credence actually practice magic.

"Well done, Credence," Tina congratulated.

"Feel better?" Queenie asked and Credence was surprised to note that he did, in fact, feel calmer.

"What's this?" Newt asked, realising she'd missed something.

"Magic, for Credence, appears to be very closely tied to his emotions," Queenie began. "Now that he's no longer feeling fearful of it, his magic isn't blasting out or staying stagnant, it's spreading through him, becoming more a part of him, rather than being separate." She walked forward to stroke Credence's face gently. "But it's still very powerful, so," she continued, "I think, if Credence feels extreme emotions, he still has to release his magic in some form, just to siphon off the build-up."

"So, it's like releasing a pressure valve?" Jacob asked. "When his emotions build up, his magic builds up, and then when he releases his emotions, he has to release some magic too?"

"It seems so," Queenie surmised, studying Credence carefully before smiling. "Does that sound right to you?"

"At the castle today," Credence remembered, "I sent flames into the common room hearth. It was almost like a reflex."

"Your magic was still trying to find an outlet," Newt nodded. "But this one was much more constructive." He assured. "The training definitely seems to be paying off."

"Professor Imamu told me this morning that emotions and intent can often depend on perspective," Credence recalled thoughtfully. "Maybe, now that I'm more accepting of my obscurus, it itself is changing?"

"Perhaps," Newt granted, the scientist in him thrilled at the opportunity to learn more about this little-known phenomenon. "But still, you should be very proud of yourself, Credence."

Tina raised her glass.

"To Credence," she toasted with affection. "Whose strength of mind, and strength of heart shows that you should always be proud of who you are."

Credence felt a blush forming on his face at Tina's kind words as the others raised their glasses.

"To Credence."

~..~..~..~..

It was some time later when Tina announced that she and Queenie should be heading back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Don't worry, Tina," Queenie assured her sister as Jacob helped her with her coat. "You won't get in trouble for staying out late. Mr Graves and Theseus are still waiting for a reply from the French Ministry, so the MACUSA aurors really didn't have much to do tonight."

"Yes, Theseus old me of Graves' theory of Grindlewald being in France, this morning," Newt spoke up as they made their way downstairs through the bakery. "It sounds plausible. It's not either of our Ministry's jurisdictions, he's not so familiar with it that it would be an obvious place to go, yet it's still a powerful community where he could draw followers to his cause."

"Tina actually gave Mr Graves the idea, after thinking that tracking Grindlewald was like trying to find a demiguise," Queenie supplied with a smile, making Tina close her eyes in embarrassment.

"Really?" Newt asked, and this time, Tina could feel herself blushing, and was thankful it was dark.

"Well, I'm glad my creatures helped," Newt stammered awkwardly, as Tina avoided his eyes.

"Let me just lock up here," Jacob said, "and we'll walk you girls back to the hotel."

"Oh, we can manage," Tina was quick to say.

"Nonsense," Newt sided with Jacob. "A gentleman always escorts a lady home."

"Should I get into the case?" Credence asked nervously as they stood outside the bakery door.

Newt considered this.

"I'm not sure if that's necessary now," he mused aloud. "Especially as you've proven you can control the obscurus so well."

Tina nodded thoughtfully in agreement.

"No one else at MACUSA knows what you look like, anyway, Credence," she reminded him. "Not even Mr Graves."

"If you'd feel more comfortable, you are free to enter the case," Newt assured his friend. "But I think," he smiled, "that, as you are no longer afraid of the obscurus, you need no longer be so cautious around others."

Credence had lowered his eyes, pensively, when Queenie smiled.

"Credence," she caught his attention, "look behind you."

Credence turned to take in the main street, the store fronts dark and quiet, due to the hour. However, one place, which looked to be a pub, was lit up for Christmas, and people could be seen inside, eating, drinking and dancing.

Exiting the pub, were two women, and it took Credence a moment to realise that one of them was Willow. She had an arm around her friend, who appeared to be stumbling slightly as she walked.

"Come on, Eliza," she said to her companion as they began their way down the street. "Time to get you home."

Tina watched as a wistful expression appeared on Credence's face, and a smile tugged at her mouth.

"Who is she?" She asked, curiously.

"Willow," Credence answered softly. "Willow Arden."

"She works at the florists' up the street," Jacob explained, pointing in the direction they were about to head in.

"She gave Credence a rose on his first day here," Newt added with a smile.

"And she thinks Credence is handsome," Queenie added casually, causing Credence to almost hurt his neck, as he whipped his head around at this information.

"She-she does?" He asked the legilimens, hopefully and Queenie smiled.

"Go on," Queenie encouraged, nudging him onward. "Go offer to walk them home."

"It's not safe for two young ladies to be walking around this late at night," Tina added, seeing the hesitation on Credence's face. "Especially if one's drunk."

"I'll wait for you at the Leaky Cauldron, Credence," Newt added quickly. "Then I'll take you back to Hogwarts."

"You could come back here if you like," Jacob added. "I'll still be up, testing the ovens here with some breads."

"Alright," Newt nodded, thankful that Credence will be able to avoid the aurors. "Come back to the bakery, Credence," he instructed, "and I'll take you back."

Credence turned to look at Willow and her friend as they began to disappear down the dark street.

"Go on," Queenie encouraged. "Deep breath. You can do it."

The group smiled as Credence appeared to gather his courage before crossing the street to catch up to the two women.

"I'm so proud of him," Jacob placed a hand on his heart with a smile as the foursome made their way down the street in the opposite direction. "That takes a lot of courage."

"Yes, it does," Newt nodded in sympathy. "I hope it goes well."

"Define, 'going well'," Tina asked curiously.

"Getting a kiss goodnight?" Jacob grinned cheekily.

"Actually," New stammered slightly, "considering how shy Credence is, if he is able to even have a conversation with Willow, that should be a success."

"True," Tina sighed. "It can be very scary, sometimes, trying to start a relationship when there wasn't one before."

"Or changing a relationship," Queenie added and noticed that both Newt and Tina blushed, looking down at the ground, so of course, neither of them realised. She sighed. She had no right to interfere, she reminded herself. But it was frustrating, at times, her gift. Why couldn't they just see how they made each other feel and act on that?

"So, Newt," she spoke up into the quiet, winter's night. "Are you going to ask us now?"

"Queenie, please don't read my mind," Newt told her automatically.

"Ask us what?" Tina queried as Newt gave a sigh.

"My mother," he began hesitantly, "has invited all of you over to our house for Christmas. Would you like to come?"

"Really?" Jacob asked with a smile, touched by the gesture.

"Are you sure it's alright?" Tina queried.

"Oh, yes, she insists upon it, actually," Newt explained. "She's most eager to meet the auror who helped to capture Grindlewald," he added, smiling at Tina.

"Oh," was all Tina thought of to say, and she then began to wonder what kind of witch Mrs Scamander was expecting to meet.

"Well, tell her we'd love to join you," Queenie smiled.

"Is Credence invited too?" Tina asked, thinking she already knew the answer.

"No," Newt answered, confirming her suspicion. "That's one of the reasons why I didn't ask you earlier. I didn't want him to feel left out. Theseus doesn't know about him. No one at the ministry or outside Hogwarts knows about him. And, while I think we may begin to start introducing him, now he has more control, I still think it would be better for him to not meet my brother just yet."

"Do you really think Theseus would react so badly?" Tina wondered.

"To be perfectly honest," Newt admitted, "I don't know. Still, I'd rather not risk it just yet."

Eventually, they made it to the Leaky Cauldron, where Queenie and Jacob bid each other good bye with a soft kiss.

Averting his eyes to give them what privacy he could, Newt turned awkwardly to Tina, his hands gripping his case tightly.

"Well, thank you for agreeing to come for Christmas, Tina," he began. "To be honest, I think you being there will be the only thing that will make it bearable."

"Come on," Tina encouraged. "It won't be that bad." She tilted her head curiously. "Why? What are your parents like?"

"Well, my father's much like an older version of Theseus," Newt explained and Tina smiled in understanding.

"You don't get on," she surmised and Newt shook his head with a wry smile.

"No," he admitted. "But, I think you'd like my mother," Newt added hopefully. "She breeds hippogriffs. Actually," Newt added, "she's the one who helped nurture my love of magical creatures."

Tina smiled.

"Then I look forward to meeting her," she told him and as a lock of hair drifted into her face, Newt couldn't help himself, reaching out a hand to gently push the dark strands behind her ear.

Their eyes meet for a moment, and Newt froze, his hand barely touching Tina's cheek as he tried to remember to breathe.

The sound of the door to the hotel opening as some patrons left the pub caused the pair to snap back to reality and Newt retracted his hand as if he'd been burned, gripping his case tightly with both hands, as if determined to not let them stray.

"Goodnight, Tina," he told her, before turning to make his way back down the street.

"Good night Newt," she called softly after him. Turning to head inside, she caught Queenie's eyes, and she didn't have to be a legiliimens to know what her sister was thinking.

"Shut up," she whispered as she headed towards the door.

"I didn't say a thing," Queenie smiled as she followed her sister in out of the cold.

Jacob caught up to Newt as he made his way back down the road.

"I saw that," he teased with a smile.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Newt said flatly, despite the blush forming on his face.

~..~..~..~..

"Miss Arden?" Credence called as he caught up to the two women and Willow turned, her confusion clearing to recognition as she smiled.

"Mr Barebone," she greeted. "Good evening."

"Good evening," he echoed, swallowing hard.

"Oh, my goodness," Willow's friend stumbled on her heels as she smiled. "Hello, Handsome," she greeted and Willow cringed in embarrassment as Credence stared in surprise.

"I'm so sorry," Willow apologised as she struggled to keep her friend from stumbling again. "This is my friend, Eliza. We've just been to a Christmas work party and she's had a bit much to drink."

"I'm fine," Eliza protested. "You are such a goody-two-shoes, Willow. You didn't even drink any champagne."

"You're not a drinker?" Credence asked.

"No," Willow confessed, lowering her eyes. "You?"

"No," Credence shook his head.

"You're both goody-two-shoes," Eliza said casually.

"Thank you, Eliza," Willow told her friend patiently. "Because that means we don't end up making idiots of ourselves in a pub full of people."

"May I walk you both home?" Credence offered hesitantly.

"Aww," Eliza placed a hand on her heart before wrapping her free arm around her friend affectionately. "That's so sweet of you."

"Yes, please," Willow accepted the offer gratefully. "We only live a couple of blocks away."

The small group walked in relative silence, only punctuated by Eliza giggling, or commenting on how pretty Credence's eyes were, making him blush.

"No, really," Eliza insisted for the third time. "Your eyes are so deep, a girl could happily drown in them."

Credence kept his eyes lowered, completely at a loss of what to say.

"You're embarrassing him, Eliza," Willow told her friend.

"Aww I'm sorry," Eliza appeared about to cry. "But it's true: your eyes are so beautiful."

Eventually, Willow directed them to a doorway beside a jewellery shop.

"This is us," she announced, struggling to get the key out of her handbag with Eliza's arms around her neck.

"You are such a good friend, Willow," Eliza told her as she stroked her hair. "I don't think I tell you that often enough, but you are such a good person."

"Thank you, Eliza," Willow answered patiently, having finally extracted her house key. "Uh, Mr Barebone," she implored as she struggled to keep her friend upright, "could you get the door, please?"

Credence took the key slowly from her outstretched hand and unlocked the door to reveal a small entryway. A hall led onward, appearing to go behind the shop and a staircase led upwards. Willow thanked Credence before shushing her friend's giggles as she helped Eliza up the stairs.

Credence hesitated at the door, wondering whether he should leave now they were home safe. Then, he realised that he still held Willow's key, and so followed the girls cautiously up the stairs after quietly closing the door behind him.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Credence passed through another door to find himself in a small living room. Two chairs sat in front of an empty fireplace on the left, while a couch rested against the wall to the right. Around the left corner appeared to be the kitchen, but Credence saw Willow helping Eliza through a door, by the couch, which appeared to be her bedroom.

Averting his gaze, Credence stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, wondering whether to stay or leave. Placing the key on a small hook by the door, he was about to make his way back downstairs when Willow entered the room, turning on lamps as she did.

"Thank you so much for walking us home, Mr Barebone," Willow smiled.

"You're welcome, Miss Arden," Credence ducked his head in a slight bow. "It appears you had an eventful night."

"Oh, it was just an 'end of year' staff party. But Eliza will have quiet the headache in the morning," Willow chuckled. "She's completely out." Shrugging out of her scarf and coat, Willow hung them on a coat stand by the door before entering the small kitchen.

"Would you like some tea?" She asked.

"It's alright," Credence declined automatically, despite not wanting to leave just yet.

"Please, I insist," Willow continued, filling the jug with water and getting two cups from the cupboard. "You have gone out of your way to do us a favour, and it is freezing outside. The least I can do is give you a hot drink before you go."

Credence swallowed.

"Thank you," he said.

"Oh, the fire's died," Willow noted, looking up from her task.

"I can do it," Credence offered, preventing her from crossing the room. "It's alright."

"Thank you," Willow gave him leave and Credence knelt down in front of the hearth. After making sure the woman had her back turned, Credence sent flames into the fireplace, sending warmth spreading through the small room almost instantly.

Credence felt a smile tug at his mouth. He was getting good at this.

"That was quick."

He turned as Willow entered the room, staring at the roaring fire in the small grate.

"There were still some embers in it," Credence thought quickly, standing up. "It didn't need much."

Willow smiled as she came forward to warm herself, standing beside Credence in front of the fire.

"Oh, that feels lovely," she sighed, closing her eyes as the winter chill left her. "Thank you, Mr Barebone."

"My pleasure," Credence smiled at seeing the woman relax beside him, while wondering why his heart beat had suddenly quickened.

Soon, the jug came to a boil and Willow returned to the kitchen as Credence cast his gaze curiously around the room.

While the room was sparsely furnished, there were books everywhere. The two bookcases in the room were completely full, and more books were stacked beside the couch and on the small corner table by one of the chairs.

"You and Eliza must enjoy reading," Credence spoke up, for want of anything better to say.

"Actually, most of these books are mine," Willow confessed as she entered the living room once more, bearing two cups of tea. Offering one to Credence, she gestured he sit down in one of the chairs as she took up the other. "Eliza has only a few, which she keeps in her room. But all of these," Willow gestured to the books in the room, "are mine." She looked down, as if embarrassed. "I've always loved stories," she confessed. "I've always loved learning. And books offer a doorway out into a world that, for most of us, can never be reached." She sighed, "I love writing my own stories too. They're mostly just ideas in my head, but I hope, in time, I can come up with an idea that could turn into a truly wonderful story."

Curiously, Credence placed his cup on the table and made his way over to a nearby bookshelf.

Arthur Conan Doyle. William Shakespeare. Jane Austin. Jules Verne. Mary Shelly. Oscar Wilde.

"Have you really read all these books?" Credence was blown away. The only book his mother had ever really let him read was the Bible.

"Not all of them," Willow admitted, coming to stand beside him. "There are some I would love to read, but have yet to find the time. Others, I have read so many times, I've practically memorised them." She smiled. "I'm looking forward to catching up on my reading over the Christmas break," she admitted. "There's nothing like sitting in front of the fire on a winter's day with a hot drink and a good book."

Credence smiled, and couldn't help but notice how the warm light that filled the room seemed to give her soft glow, and again, he felt his heart rate increase.

Why was it doing that?

Swallowing, Credence lowered his eyes, and his attention was caught by a flash of red sticking out of the pages of a book.

"Oh, have you read that one?" Willow asked eagerly as Credence bent down to pick it up off the pile by the chair.

The book was called 'The Game of Life and How to Play it,' by Florence Scovel Shinn.

Credence shook his head at the negative, but couldn't help feeling a sense of familiarity. He was sure he'd seen this book before.

"Really?" Willow queried. "Florence is a lecturer in New York. She just published this book last year. I bought it at one of her lectures when I visited. I even got her to sign it, see?" Willow proudly opened the cover to reveal an autograph on the first page.

A lecturer in New York?

"What does she lecture about?" Credence asked, curious.

"She's a teacher of what's called the 'New Thought Philosophy'," Willow explained. "Basically, she speaks of how a person's emotions and thoughts can actually shape their reality-"

Credence paused, his mind racing.

"And tells of people who she's helped to change their lives due to simply a change in their thinking." Willow finished. "It's incredibly fascinating."

Leafing through the book curiously, Credence spotted several bible references, as well as many passages recounting real life situations. Credence paused on an explanation:

" _The imagination has been called 'The Scissors of the Mind' and is ever cutting, cutting, day by day, the pictures man sees there, and sooner or later he meets his own creations in his outer world. To train the imagination successfully, man must understand the workings of his mind. The Greeks said: Know Thyself'."_

Credence let out a breath. This was rather similar to what Professor Imamu had been teaching him regarding using his emotions and intent to control his magic.

But how could non-wizarding people be aware of how magic can be used? He wondered.

Then he remembered the Book and Quill that Dumbledore had shown him... There were people who had magic in their blood, just not enough to be considered a wizard.

Credence stared down at the book he held.

Does this mean that these people who had a little bit of magic, could still do it? And just, maybe, their magic was so subtle, that those in the wizarding community wouldn't even call it that?

Credence was beginning to feel lightheaded, and his grip faltered slightly. However, while he managed to keep hold of the book, a piece of paper, flashing red, floated to the ground. It had been amongst the pages, as if being used as a bookmark, and as Credence bent down to pick it up, he felt himself stiffen.

Now, he realised where he must have seen this book, and he placed the item in question carefully aside as he stood back up.

For in his hands was one of his mother's leaflets, depicting two hands breaking a wand.

Credence swallowed as his hands began to shake.

"Oh, I forgot I still had that," Willow spoke up, seeing the leaflet in Credence's hands. "I got handed that as I was leaving the lecture hall. A woman was standing on the steps, trying to rally people into what sounded like a modern-day witch hunt. She was clearly an intelligent woman," Willow recalled, "I remember her speaking very persuasively. But I didn't like the fact she was trying to instil fear in the people she was speaking to. Listening to Florence," Willow sighed, "she spoke of the great divine power that existed in all of us, if we were to only tap into it. She was inspiring. Yet, hearing this woman on the steps," she shook her head, "it was almost like she was the exact opposite. Still charismatic and eloquent, but… it was like she was trying to supress, rather than embrace." Willow shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I didn't like the feeling she gave out. And then I was handed this leaflet by a young man who-"

Willow broke off, as she'd just raised her eyes to take in Credence, standing there, head bowed, with the leaflet in his hand and a sense of déjà vu washed over her.

"Oh, my god," she whispered and Credence slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"It was you, wasn't it?" She asked. "You were on the steps outside that lecture hall."

Slowly, Credence nodded, and a far-off memory came forward in his mind of a girl walking down the stairs towards him, listening to his mother speaking. He gave her a leaflet and her eyes met his, and she smiled.

" _Thank you,"_ she'd said to him.

It had been the 'thank you' that had made an impression, he realised. For no one had ever thanked him.

Cautiously, Willow stepped forward, studying the man in her living room and Credence felt suddenly vulnerable, wanting to leave, yet he couldn't make his feet move.

"Do you believe in this?" Willow touched the edge of the leaflet in his hands cautiously.

Credence shook his head, lowering his eyes again. Afraid that, if he looked at her, she'd see everything.

"But that's why you're here, now, isn't it?" Willow asked and Credence lifted his eyes to find she was closer now, her eyes searching his.

"You've run away from it all?"

Swallowing, Credence nodded.

Glancing down at the leaflet, Willow seemed to nod.

"Burn it," she told him, motioning to the fire.

"What?"

"Burn it," Willow repeated, indicating the piece of paper in his hands. "Send the last of your past up in flames."

"But, it's yours," Credence objected.

"I kept it as a memento from my trip to New York," Willow granted. "But to you, it's a memory of a life you no longer want to be a part of." She smiled. "Part of 'the game of life' is completely releasing old, bad memories, so that you can fully move forward in love."

Credence met her gaze, his breath catching slightly in his throat as she smiled nodding towards the merrily crackling fire.

"Burn it," she encouraged again.

Credence slowly walked over to the fireplace, and, taking one last look at his mother's leaflet, he lowered it until the fire began to lick the edge of the paper. He watched the flames slowly eat through half of the leaflet before tossing the remains onto the fire.

Credence let out a long breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as Willow placed a supportive hand on his arm.

"Well done, Mr Barebone," she praised.

"Credence," he invited. "Call me Credence."

"Credence," Willow nodded with a smile. "Then you must call me Willow."

"Willow," Credence repeated, and could swear the room became warmer, though that may have been just because he was standing so close to the fire.

"Listen," Willow began hesitantly. "This may sound strange, and I don't mean to cause offense, but when I saw you in New York, you seemed so… scared." She raised her eyes to his hesitantly. "You reminded me of some of the animals we get in the shelter…the ones who've been mistreated."

Credence lowered his eyes.

"I just wanted to give you a hug," Willow admitted. "Though, of course, I couldn't at the time, it would have been highly improper: A random stranger hugging another random stranger in the middle of a public place." She cleared her throat.

"But, would it be alright if I gave you one now?" She asked slowly and Credence wondered whether he'd heard correctly.

"You want to give me a hug?" He repeated slowly.

Willow began twisting her fingers nervously.

"I just thought you might still need one," she said, lowering her eyes before raising them to gauge his reaction.

Credence nodded, and Willow carefully stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist, and he was suddenly struck by how small she was. He could rest his chin on the top of her head easily.

As they stood together in front of the fire, Credence felt a warmth pass through him that he felt had nothing to do with the flames still burning merrily in the hearth, and wondered again at the behaviour of his heart as it sped up yet again.

"Thank you, Willow," Credence said quietly as she stepped back, and Credence felt the longing to reach out for her again, so instead clasped his hands behind his back to still them.

"What for?" Willow asked. "The hug?"

"Not just that," Credence told her. "For seeing me. I remember you, back in New York," he explained, seeing the confusion in her eyes. "You said 'thank you' to me. No one had ever said that. And then, last week, outside the florist's shop, before you saved that kitten. You saw me, and waved. I never thought anyone even noticed me, but you did. Thank you for that."

Willow avoided his gaze, a little awkward at receiving praise for something she thought was such a simple act. But still, she reminded herself, sometimes it's the simplest things that can mean the most to people.

"You are very welcome, Credence," she told him. "And I truly hope," she added earnestly, "that you find the life you deserve to have, here in England."

Retrieving the book 'The Game of Life', she pressed it into his hands.

"You're giving this to me?" Credence asked, wide eyed at the gesture.

"I think it could help," Willow smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Credence."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I read on 'Pottermore' that the next movie will be set in London, New York and France. I wondered: why would they go to France? And the idea in this chapter came up._

 _I've got an idea of what might happen there, but we really should get past Christmas first…_

 _I'm not sure how long the Christmas holidays are in the UK, but I'm guessing they last till just after New Year, and I'm thinking of something pretty important for the end of December._

 _See, 'Fantastic Beasts', I think, was set at the start of December, in 1926._

 _And Tom Riddle was born on 31_ _st_ _December, 1926…_

 _So, I'm thinking: what if Credence meets Merope Gaunt just before she gives birth to her son?_

 _It's just an idea I have._

' _The Game of Life and How to Play it,' by Florence Scovel Shinn is a real book, published in New York in 1925, and while it is highly Christianised- using many passages from the bible to illustrate various points- I see it as something of a 1920s version of 'The Secret' and it was something of a revolutionary way of thinking._

 _As 'Fantastic Beasts' was set in 1926, and Credence had lived in New York, I thought it would be a wonderful way for Willow to help him heal from his past. Credence, being raised in a Puritan household, I imagine would know his bible inside and out (I am not a Christian or any derivative of the religion, so forgive any errors in my writing) and I thought that, as 'The Game of Life' references the bible many times, it could be a way for Credence to see things in a different light._

 _I also thought it was a good way for Credence to see a further link between what he'd suspected in the Book and Quill room at Hogwarts regarding various levels of magical ability in a person, and what it could mean for people who were of that genetic make-up, and I'm hoping I'm showing the links clearly enough that you can see that perspective._

 _Yes, I realise I'm going a bit 'above and beyond' putting a real book into a fanfiction, but I've always thought the more 'real' a story feels, the more connected the reader feels to the story._

 _I want to make quite clear that while Credence has made a step to recovery in this chapter, he is still damaged. I wanted to make it so that it was not his obscurus, so much, that was the actual problem, it was the perception he had of himself. And, as he is finding acceptance, making friends, learning to control and use his magic, he is becoming more accepting of himself._

 _And with this final scene with Willow, I wanted to show that it is that having a connection with people is what Credence needs, as it is that connection that he has been starved of his entire life, and it is what he craves. He's learning by observing Newt and Jacob, as well as Queenie and Tina._

 _Though, I admit, with Newt's scientific mind, I'm wondering if they'll try using the swooping evil venom on Credence, to see if that will help at all. I imagine, as Credence was in his obscurus form during the storm in New York, I doubt the venom had any effect on him, which is why he still remembers everything._

 _I have another theory:_

 _I think Grindlegraves met Credence when Tina attacked his mother and lost her job. She said everyone had to be obliviated, so what if Grindlegraves was there, and felt the magical ancestry in Credence, and decided to not obliviate him, and instead recruited him? I wondered how he was able to remember her in the subway tunnel. Why would he listen to her, if he had supposedly been obliviated after Tina attacked Mary Lou Barebone?_

 _Not sure if I'll end up having Tina and Credence discuss this at some point or not, but I wanted to write it here, at any rate._

 _Okay, I really think that's enough of an author's note, I can go for ages about the ideas in my head, so I'll leave it here._

 _If you have any questions, please feel free to ask._

 _Please leave a review- I love feedback!_

 _Thank you for reading,_

 _Celino._


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note: Hello everybody! Thank you so much for the reads, follows, favourites and reviews. I had originally planned to post chapters 7 and 8 as one chapter, but I thought it a bit too long, so I've split it into two. Christmas Eve and Christmas day._

 _Hope you like it- time to 'meet the family'!_

~..~..~..~..

Christmas Eve arrived with a flurry of snow, and Tina, Queenie and Jacob arrived at Newt's flat bundled up against the cold.

"Happy Christmas. You're right on time," Newt greeted as he opened the door to let them in, seeming more nervous than usual. "Mother said we can arrive by floo, so we don't have to brave the weather."

"I'm sorry, 'Floo'?" Jacob queried in confusion.

"We can travel by fireplace," Newt answered simply and Jacob's confusion deepened.

"What?" He asked, completely stumped. "How is that possible?"

"Well," Newt began, taking a small jar of black powder from the mantelpiece, "this is called 'Floo powder'," he explained, waving his wand to enlarge his small fireplace until it was big enough to walk into. "And what you do, is step into the hearth, speak your destination- every wizarding family, when applying for a Floo connection, has to give their home a name, so as to make it easier to travel to - and then you drop the powder. Make sure you speak clearly," he added, "otherwise you could end up in the wrong place."

"Uh," Jacob seemed nervous at the prospect, and clutched the basket of baked goods he'd made as a gift for Newt's family, closer.

"You'll be okay, honey," Queenie assured him. "I'll do it with you."

"I'll go first, to show you," Newt offered. "Just copy me."

Newt grabbed a pinch of Floo powder before stepping into the hearth, gripping his case tightly with his other hand. He hadn't wanted to take the floo, but, the weather being as miserable as it was, it would not have been pleasant to apparate outside the house gates, and portkeys were very expensive, at this time of year.

But still, Newt hadn't yet had the chance to tell his friends about his home, and he was more than a little apprehensive about how they'd react.

He cleared his throat.

"Scamander Estate," he announced, before dropping the powder on the hearth and disappearing in a flash of flame.

Jacob felt his jaw drop and he laughed in shock.

"Did he just say, 'Estate'?" Tina queried Newt's wording, feeling a little apprehensive.

"Come on, honey," Queenie pulled Jacob forward and she took up some floo powder for them both as they stepped into the hearth. "Hold onto me tightly, Jacob," Queenie instructed and her fiancé took up her hand.

"Scamander Estate," Queenie announced, dropping the powder and Tina watched as her sister disappeared with her fiancé.

Swallowing, Tina hesitantly took up her own floo powder before stepping into the hearth.

"Scamander Estate," she said, and in moments, she was engulfed in flame.

~..~..~..~..

Newt emerged from the fireplace to step out into his family's large living room. Taking out his wand, he cleaned himself of all the ash that clung to his clothes, face and hair, grateful he hadn't lost his case in the travel.

"Master Newt!" A delighted voice called, and Newt smiled upon seeing a small house elf come forward, dressed in a pale green pillowcase.

"Hello Poppy," Newt greeted fondly. He'd always liked their house elf, and he recalled fond memories of her sneaking him extra helpings of cake when he was a boy.

"Oh, it is so good to see you, again sir," Poppy seemed beside herself with joy as Newt knelt down to give her a hug.

"It's good to see you as well, Poppy," Newt told her with a smile. "Can you tell mother I've arrived?"

"Certainly sir," Poppy curtsied. "And your guests?"

"They'll be here soon," New assured her as he stood back up and the house elf hurried off to tell her mistress that the youngest Scamander had arrived.

The fire burst into life again, and Newt turned in time to see Queenie and Jacob emerge from the fire, Jacob coughing out smoke.

Newt hurried forward to help his friends straighten themselves up.

"Are you alright?" He asked in concern.

"Oh, let's not do that again," Jacob pleaded as Queenie cleaned them both up with a wave of her wand.

"You did very well, honey," Queenie assured him with a smile before kissing his cheek.

The fire roared once more, and Newt moved forward to offer a hand as Tina stepped out of the fireplace.

"Thank you," she smiled in gratitude of his assistance before cleaning the ash off herself with her own wand.

"Hey, Newt," Jacob asked, finally taking a look around. "I thought we were going to your house. Are we in a hotel or something?"

"Uh, no," Newt stammered in embarrassment, gesturing to the large room they were in. "Welcome to my family's estate. Ostentatious, isn't it?"

"Woah," Jacob marvelled as he looked around. 'No wonder he didn't want those occamy eggshells,' he realised.

Tina's eyes widened as she took in the ornately embroidered curtains and the artwork that decorated the room, her eyes travelling up to see an actual chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"Our whole apartment could fit into this room," she muttered without thinking, and Newt swallowed, feeling his throat tighten.

However, he was saved from making a comment by his mother walking into the room.

"Newt, sweetheart!" she greeted in delight, coming forward to hug her son. "Welcome, home, dearie."

"Thank you, Mother," Newt said with affection before stepping back. "I'd like to introduce my friends: this is Jacob Kowalski," he began, "and his fiancé, Queenie Goldstein. They've just moved here from New York and are opening a bakery in London."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs Scamander," Jacob greeted, offering her the basket he held. "I brought you a selection of pastries, all soon to appear in my bakery on London's main street."

"Oh, thank you so much," Mrs Scamander smiled, lifting up the towel covering the basket and exclaiming in delight as she took out a niffler shaped pastry.

"This is so precious," she smiled. "Did you make these yourself?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Jacob smiled proudly.

"Very impressive," Mrs Scamander praised. "And if they taste as good as they look, you clearly have a gift, Mr Kowalski." She sent the basket sailing through the air, towards the kitchen.

"Jacob's bakery was very successful in New York," Queenie added proudly. "He had so many happy customers."

"And you were my favourite, sweetheart," Jacob wrapped an arm around his fiancé fondly.

Mrs Scamander smiled. 'These two are adorable,' she thought, seeing the couple were clearly in love. It was only then that she noticed the dark-haired woman still standing by the fireplace.

"And this," Newt gestured proudly as Tina stepped forward, "is Tina Goldstein. Tina," he continued, "I'd like you to meet my mother, Rhiannon Scamander."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am," Tina greeted formally. "Thank you for having us."

"Oh, it's my pleasure, Miss Goldstein," Mrs Scamander assured her. "It's so nice to have people in the house again. Poppy," she turned, and it was only then Tina saw the little elf standing to the side quietly, "could you show Newt's guests upstairs, please?"

"Certainly, Mistress," Poppy curtsied and, with a click of her long fingers, their overnight bags floated into the air.

"Wow," Jacob smiled at the floating luggage. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

"When's dinner?" Mrs Scamander asked the house elf curiously.

"In thirty minutes, Mistress," Poppy answered.

"Lovely," Mrs Scamander smiled. "I expect you all dressed and in the dining hall by then. Newt," she turned to her son, "you must come say hello to your father and brother before you go up to get ready."

"Get ready?" Newt repeated before letting out a sigh of exasperation. "Mother, you haven't done anything lavish, have you?"

"Of course not," Rhiannon exclaimed. "But it is Christmas," she continued, "and it's the first time the family's been all together for a while, and you have brought guests, so-"

"Oh, Merlin," Newt sighed, meeting his friends' eyes apologetically. "My mother always means well," he assured them.

"It's perfectly alright, Newt," Queenie assured him as she took up the hands of her sister and her fiancé before following Poppy and their floating bags towards a large staircase. "We'll be fine. This'll be fun."

When the group had left the room, Rhiannon turned to her son.

"What did you mean by that?" She asked, hurt tinging her voice. " _'My mother always means well'_?"

Newt took a breath.

"I love you very much, mother," he told her, "but, most people don't live like this," he waved a hand at the large room they were in. "And when you do lavish things, it can sometimes seem…intimidating…to other people, I think."

"I'm just trying to be welcoming," Rhiannon objected. She hadn't seen her youngest son in over a year, and here he was, finally home, with friends, for Christmas, and she was hurt her son didn't understand why she wanted to celebrate that.

"I know you are," Newt assured her. "And I appreciate the effort you're going to. But mother," he sighed as he tried to explain. "Tina's first comment was: 'our whole apartment could fit into this room.'"

Comprehension dawned in Rhiannon's eyes as she studied the expression on her son's face.

"Please," he implored, "try to keep it simple."

Swallowing, Rhiannon nodded.

"You know," she spoke up quietly, "I am happy that you're home, son."

Realising he'd hurt his mother's feelings, Newt wrapped her up in a hug, apologetically.

"I'm happy to be home, mother," he assured her. "Just: simple, alright? Please?"

"Alright," Rhiannon nodded. "Now, come see your father and brother," she ordered, taking up her son's arm.

As they walked down the hall, Rhiannon smiled, glancing at her son.

"Tina Goldstein must be pretty special," she began conversationally, "if you're getting yourself worked up so much."

" _Mother_ ," Newt groaned in exasperation, feeling himself turn beetroot.

Merlin, this was going to be a long Christmas.

~..~..~..~..

"Wow, this is fancy," Jacob commented as he gazed around the room Poppy showed him to. _'Newt never mentioned his family was rich,_ ' he thought. "Queenie, did you see this?" He called to his fiancé in the room beside his. "The bedroom has its own fireplace!"

"Yes, mine does too, Jacob," Queenie answered, thanking Poppy as the house elf bowed out of the room. "And the reason Newt never told us about his all this," she added, appearing in her fiancé's doorway, "is because, while he's not ashamed of his family, he's doesn't want to be judged by it."

Jacob looked around his room again.

"I suppose," he began, "if everyone knew you had this much money, it would be difficult to tell if people genuinely liked you, huh?" He remembered how Newt had made some derogatory comments about humans, back in New York. At the time, Jacob just thought he was talking about how badly some humans treated animals, but now, the baker wondered if there was more to it, than that.

Queenie's sad smile seemed to confirm his train of thought.

"Tina," Queenie whispered before turning to enter the room across the hall, where she found her sister, standing uncomfortably in the middle of her room, staring at the bottle of wine she'd bought along as a Christmas gift.

"Tina?" Queenie approached her sister cautiously, feeling the mixture of emotions whirling around her.

"I picked this up the other day," Tina held up the bottle. "I had asked Newt what to bring, and he said his parents liked wine." She sighed.

"Lovely thought," Queenie spoke up brightly. "Didn't Mrs Scamander seem nice?" She prompted.

"They probably have their own wine cellar. Their own vineyard, even," Tina mumbled and Queenie could feel her sister's insecurities surge to the surface, as she pictured their tiny brownstone apartment and wondered how it could compare to this grand place. And it wasn't long before Tina's mental image turned from her apartment to herself.

Quickly, Queenie strode forward and took her sister by the shoulders.

"Tina, Newt doesn't care," she said firmly. "Does this look like 'Newt', to you?" She gestured to the bedroom, with the four-poster bed with embroidered duvet cover and more small cushions than was practical.

Seeing Queenie's point, Tina shook her head.

"No," the blond agreed. "His case. His potting shed. _That's_ Newt," she reminded her. "He's more uncomfortable with all of this than you are. That's why he prefers his flat in London. He doesn't want to be judged on his family, or their money, only on what he earns himself."

Tina sighed, swallowing her insecurities as she recalled Newt's comment when he welcomed them to his family home.

' _Ostentatious, isn't it_?' he'd said.

Tina frowned, looking around the room again.

' _Was Newt embarrassed by all this?_ ' she wondered.

"Yes," Queenie told her plainly. "Because he grew up having people judging him for his family's money."

Guilt entered Tina's mind as she realised that was precisely what she had started doing.

"Oh, Tina," Queenie hugged her sister as she felt Tina's shame building at her earlier attitude. "You're human, it's okay."

"But this is _New_ t," Tina insisted.

"Exactly," Queenie smiled. "So, what are you worried about?"

Tina moaned and Queenie felt the insecurities begin to surface once again.

"Okay," the blond began determinedly, "we've got thirty minutes to get you ready for dinner. Let's get started."

"I hardly have anything with me that's appropriate for this place." When Tina had packed her bags for England, it was for work, so her clothes were hardly elegant. "I suppose I could use a transfiguration spell, but those wear off after a while."

"Not necessary," Queenie told her brightly, and Tina had a nagging suspicion as she regarded her sister.

"Hey, Queenie," Jacob appeared at the doorway, holding up a new, black suit. "Where did this come from?"

His fiancé smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Honey," she told him happily.

"Aww, sweetheart, really?" Jacob was touched by the gesture. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Queenie skipped over and planted a kiss on her fiancé's cheek. "You'll look so handsome, Jacob." Catching her sister's suspicion, she smiled over her shoulder, "yes, I got you a new dress, Tina. You're welcome. Now, off you go and get changed for dinner," she shooed Jacob playfully out the door, "us girls have got to primp."

"You won't have to do much," Jacob told her affectionately and Queenie gave him another kiss.

"You're so sweet," she told him. "Now go," she instructed. "I'll see you in a little bit."

"Yes Ma'am," Jacob made a salute, eliciting a giggle from his fiancé before returning to his room as Queenie shut the door behind him.

"Now Tina, no objections," Queenie told her sister firmly. "I was shopping for the wedding. I thought Jacob would want a nice suit, and I can't have my maid of honour wearing work clothes."

Tina closed her mouth, remembering her sister was getting married in just a couple of days.

And she hadn't been there, to go shopping with her sister…

"It's okay, Teenie," Queenie assured her. "You've had the liaisons with the French Ministry to deal with."

"But I'm your Maid of Honour," Tina objected, feeling guilty again. "How could I not be there for you, shopping for your wedding dress?" She studied her sister's face.

" _Did_ you get a wedding dress?" She asked.

"Yes, I did," Queenie smiled. "I'm not wearing it tonight, of course," she assured her sister. "I'll wear my pink flapper dress, which I brought with me, to dinner." She smiled. "But I have my wedding dress back at The Leaky Cauldron. I'd love to show you, when we go back, tomorrow?"

"Yes," Tina smiled eagerly. "I'd love to see it."

"It's not that formal," Queenie assured her sister. "But I love it."

"And you will be beautiful," Tina told her confidently.

"And tonight, so will you," Queenie assured her sister, walking over to her sister's suitcase on the bed. Opening it, she dug until she pulled out a dress bag at the bottom of the case.

"You snuck that in there?" Tina wondered. "When?"

"What did you think of Newt's Mother?" Queenie asked conversationally, avoiding the question as she hung the dress bag on a hook on the back of the bedroom door.

Tina cast her mind back to the woman she'd met in the living room.

"She did seem nice," Tina admitted, smiling. "I think Newt takes after her. And not just because of the red hair."

"No, you're right," Queenie smiled. "They have the same generous heart." She smiled. "I don't know about Newt's father, yet, but I like his mother."

"Then, she must be nice," Tina smiled, though, knowing her sister, it was difficult for her to not see the good in everyone.

Queenie undid the bag, and Tina's jaw dropped upon seeing the dress.

"Oh, my," she breathed.

"You are going to be radiant, tonight, my sister," Queenie smiled. "I'll make sure of that."

~..~..~..~..

Newt entered the drawing room to see his father and brother sitting by a smaller fireplace, playing a game of chess.

"Newt," Theseus greeted, standing up upon spotting his brother enter the room. "Merry Christmas, brother mine."

"Merry Christmas, Theseus," Newt greeted. "I see mother got you away from the Ministry."

"By hook or by crook," Rhiannon stated proudly, "my family will be together at Christmas time."

"I'll be leaving after breakfast tomorrow," Theseus informed him. "You?"

"Maybe after lunch, it depends," Newt answered, causing Rhiannon to place her hands on her hips, looking put out.

"Well," she announced, gaining her sons' attention, "I'm sorry that spending Christmas with your family is such an inconvenience to you both."

"It's not that, mother," Newt assured her.

"It's just," Theseus spoke up, quickly, "with Grindlewald, and dealing with MACUSA and the French Ministry-"

"Mr Worm wants to start publicising my book, and-" Newt stammered.

"I really can't stay long," both men finished in unison, sharing an awkward glance.

Rhiannon made a non-committal sound at the back of her throat.

"Well, I'm glad you're both here, at any rate," Rhiannon told her sons.

"So, Newton," Scamander senior spoke up for the first time. "I hear you were responsible for the apprehension of Grindlewald in New York." The older man regarded his son appraisingly. "Is this true?"

Newt swallowed as he gripped his case tighter in his hands, having been reluctant to let it out of his sight, even in Poppy's care.

"Well, I had help, Father," he admitted slowly.

"Yes," Theseus spoke up. "Auror Goldstein. She's part of the MACUSA team here to help track down Grindlewald."

"They don't seem to be _doing_ much, though, do they?" Hector Scamander stated, raising an eyebrow.

"Now, father, as I said, their Head Auror, Mr Graves, had the theory that Grindlewald could be in France, which he got," he continued quickly, "from Auror Goldstein's insight, which _she_ got," Theseus smiled at his brother, "from tracking your creatures down in New York, Newt."

Newt quirked a smile.

"France," Hector Scamander muttered. "It's as likely a place as any, I suppose."

"Tina's actually staying with us, remember, Father," Newt reminded the man. "And I'd appreciate it if you could at least try to be civil to her, and my other friends, while they're here."

Hector slowly sat back in his chair, giving Newt a measured look, and the magizoologist tried not to quail under his father's gaze.

" _Tina_?" Hector echoed, raising an enquiring eyebrow.

"Well," Newt stammered, "her sister Queenie's here also. And if we called them both 'Miss Goldstein,' it might get…confusing."

The former Head Auror nodded slowly, his expression sceptical.

"Of course," he agreed, his tone neutral.

Clearing his throat, awkwardly, Newt turned to his mother.

"How are the hippogriffs, mother?" He asked, eager for a change in topic.

~..~..~..~..

By the time Poppy announced dinner, Newt had quickly changed into a blue suit that his father would deem more 'appropriate' for the occasion.

He reluctantly left his case in his room and was clenching and unclenching his hands, as he descended the stairs, finding his case's absence highly unfamiliar, after having carried it around for over a year.

"Stop twitching, Newt," a voice said playfully, and Newt turned to see Queenie and Jacob coming down the stairs behind him. "You have nothing to be nervous about," Queenie assured him.

"I'm not nervous," Newt said quickly. "What makes you think I'm nervous?"

Smiling, Queenie straightened Newt's bowtie.

"Tina will be down in a minute," she told him. "Care to escort us through?"

"Of course," Newt smiled with a gesture. "Follow me."

Newt led his friends into the dining room, where a large table waited, set for seven. The rest of the Scamander family were already seated, but all stood up to greet Newt's guests.

"Everyone," Newt began formally, "may I formally introduce my friends, Jacob Kowalski, and Queenie Goldstein."

"Good to see you two again," Theseus spoke up, shaking Jacob's hand and bowing to Queenie. "I'm told you're opening up a bakery in London?"

"Yes, we are," Jacob smiled proudly, as Queenie passed Tina's gift of a bottle of wine to Mrs Scamander. "I even brought along some of my pastries, for you to sample, later."

"Thank you," Theseus smiled as they sat back down. "Nothing helps you get through a long work day than a baked treat."

"Exactly," Jacob exclaimed with a smile. "That's why I love doing what I do. Pastries make people so happy."

"I got a sneak preview," Rhiannon admitted to the table, "and some of them are actually shaped like creatures."

"Yes," Jacob nodded, "Newt's creatures were a real inspiration," he admitted, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"I believe we are missing a member of our party?" Hector Scamander nodded to the empty chair beside his youngest son.

"Tina's on her way down now," Queenie announced.

"She is?" Newt asked, standing back up. "I'll escort her in."

"So, how are you two finding England so far?" Rhiannon asked the couple.

"Oh, everyone's been so nice," Queenie smiled. "When we went to the registry office at the ministry, for example-"

"Registry office?" Hector queried.

"Oh, I'm not a wizard, Sir," Jacob spoke up. "So, I had to register to get an exemption from that 'secrecy' law. Otherwise, I'd have to keep getting my memory wiped, which would not exactly be conducive to a happy marriage."

Newt heard the polite laughter as he left the dining room, and noted he couldn't hear his father. Sighing, he hoped the night would go well. His father was no elitist, like many other pure-blood wizards. He, after all, had married a half-blood. But still, Newt knew how strict his father could be to what he called 'observing tradition.'

However, as he reached the staircase, all thoughts of his father flew out of his head.

Tina was descending the stairs, wearing a long, asymmetrically-hemmed dress of turquoise with silver beading. Threads of silver fringed the hem of her dress, allowing glimpses of her legs as she stepped, and Newt swallowed, clasping his hands firmly behind his back in an effort to seem composed.

"Good evening, Mr Scamander," Tina greeted as she approached.

"Good evening, Miss Goldstein," Newt swallowed again, clearing his throat nervously as Tina smiled.

" _Stunning_ ," he breathed.

"Sorry?" Tina asked, unsure if she'd heard him correctly.

"What?" Newt asked, not realising he'd spoken aloud.

Tina quirked a smile, before reaching out to flatten the lapels of Newt's dinner jacket.

"You suit blue," she observed quietly. "You should wear this to Queenie and Jacob's wedding," she suggested.

"As you wish," he said, before remembering that he was meant to be escorting her to dinner.

"Shall we?" He asked, offering his arm, and Tina smiled.

"Such a gentleman," she told him, linking he arm with his.

In the dining room, Jacob noticed Queenie's smile become smug.

"Okay, I know that look," Jacob said slyly. "What is it?"

"You'll see," Queenie answered primly, pursing her lips together as she fought to control her smile. Moments later, Newt entered the room with Tina on his arm, and everyone stood to greet the newcomer.

"Everyone," Newt began, "may I present Miss Tina Goldstein."

"Auror Goldstein," Theseus came forward, smiling, "thank you for coming to our home for Christmas. You look stunning, this evening," he added, glancing at his younger brother.

"Thank you, Sir," Tina assured him.

"Theseus, please," the man insisted. "I'm at home, and it's Christmas, after all."

"So," Hector came around the table to greet the woman, "this is the American auror who helped to apprehend Grindlewald?"

"Auror Porpentina Goldstein, Mr Scamander," Tina gave a small curtsey before holding her head proudly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

Regally, Hector took up Tina's hand, kissing it lightly.

"The pleasure is all mine, Auror Goldstein," he assured her graciously. "I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

"Thank you, Sir," Tina answered, as Newt let out a relieved breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Please, sit down, Auror Goldstein," Mrs Scamander invited warmly and Newt was quick to do the proper thing and hold out Tina's chair for her while she sat down.

"I picked out the dress, Newt," Queenie announced with a cheeky smile. "Aren't I clever?"

"You have excellent taste, Queenie," Newt answered evenly.

"Tina's going to be my Maid of Honour at my wedding, after boxing day," Queenie told the table. "Unfortunately, she wasn't available to come dress shopping with me," here, she looked at Theseus in mock reproach, "so I had to buy one for her. And we just had to make sure it fit well before the big day."

"So, this is, essentially, a trial run?" Mrs Scamander asked with a smile.

"Of course," Queenie nodded. "And I think it suits her well, don't you?"

"Well, Newt seems to think so," Rhiannon stated, causing Newt to cringe with embarrassment.

" _Mother_ ," he pleaded, and Tina placed a hand on his arm in sympathy as his brother fought not to laugh.

To Newt's immense relief, Poppy entered at that moment with the first course of Christmas dinner, and the focus turned to the food.

They went through dinner relatively pleasantly. And Mrs Scamander had kept her word on keeping the dinner simple- for her. There were five courses, and the classics were included, such as goose, ham and roast vegetables, though there was the odd-to use Jacob's term- 'fancy dish' as the meal progressed.

The conversation relaxed slightly as time passed, though Newt noticed the only things his father spoke to Tina about were her opinions of the methods at MACUSA and the efforts to track down Grindlewald. Tina, however, seemed happy to talk about her work, and Newt figured, with her being the 'career girl' as Queenie put it, Tina was more comfortable talking about tracking a mass murder, rather than wedding arrangements, as Queenie was telling his mother about the simple ceremony they were going to have at the town hall, the day after boxing day.

Newt did get a chance to regale them with stories of his travels, at his mother's insistence, and he gladly told the story of how he saved Frank the Thunderbird from a trafficking ring in Egypt. Though he did try to down play the danger level of smuggling out a smuggled creature, so as not to worry his mother, though he could tell his brother and father didn't believe the task had been so simple.

Then he had to endure his father and brother informing him of the various level of illegal activity he took part in throughout this one venture.

"You're lucky you weren't caught, Newt," Theseus told him.

"Well, technically, I revealed myself in New York," Newt admitted slowly. "But, it all worked out in the end," he added quickly. "Frank saved the day, so, nothing to worry about."

Eventually, the plates were cleared and Mrs Scamander invited them all into the drawing room for tea.

In the drawing room, Poppy was laying out tea and cakes, including some of Jacob's pastries. And Newt paused as he spied a plate of some very familiar treats on the table.

"Are those Poppy Cakes?" Newt asked, pointing, and the little house elf twisted her pillowcase nervously.

"Do you still like them, Master Newt?" She asked hesitantly. "I remember you loved them, when you were a boy."

"Oh, of course Poppy," Newt assured her, gladly biting into one and feeling the nostalgia fill him, along with the sweet cake. "You can't have a Christmas at the Scamander house, without Poppy Cakes. Her own recipe," Newt told his friends. "She first made them for my birthday when I was five, and she's been making them every special occasion, ever since."

"Oh, my god," Jacob had just taken a bite of his first Poppy Cake. "This is insanely good, Poppy," the baker praised the delighted house elf. "Could I please have the recipe for these?" He asked. "I'd love to sell them at my bakery. With your permission, of course," he added quickly.

"Sir thinks my cakes are good enough for a bakery?" Poppy's eyes were wide as Jacob nodded.

"Oh, thank you sir!" Poppy bowed to Jacob, her large eyes filling with tears. "Sir is so kind! I'd be honoured if my Poppy Cakes were to be in a real bakery."

"The honour would be mine, Poppy," Jacob placed a sincere hand over his heart. "Thank you for sharing your work."

"You know," Queenie spoke up as she took her seat, "it's really because of Newt that we were able to get our bakery on the main street."

"Oh, yeah," Jacob smiled, clapping his friend on the shoulder again. "Newt gave me a whole case full of occamy eggshells, which are _solid silver_ ," he explained to the room, "to give as collateral to the bank."

Theseus raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Seriously?"

"Oh, Newt," Rhiannnon smiled proudly. "That's so generous."

"Well, I wasn't doing anything with them," Newt waved off the praise, as usual.

"Typical Hufflepuff," Theseus grinned. "Always helping out a friend in need."

"The world could always do with more Hufflepuffs, Theseus," Rhiannon, who had been a Hufflepuff herself, said proudly.

"At Ilvermorny," Queenie interjected, "I think Newt would be in Pukwudgie. It represents the heart of a person, and attracts healers."

"What house were you in, Queenie?" Jacob asked curiously. "Wait, wait, let me guess," he held up a hand with a smile. "A woman like you, with a heart of gold…you'd be in Pukwudgie, right?"

Queenie raised her chin proudly.

"Yes, I was," she giggled.

"What about you, Tina?" Jacob asked, curious.

"Thunderbird," Tina answered with a smile. "It represents the soul of a person, and attracts adventurers."

"Adventurers?" Theseus echoed, glancing at his younger brother.

"Hmmm," Newt considered. "An auror who helped to track down a case-full of magical creatures before apprehending the most feared wizard alive today. Nope," he said drily, "can't see an adventurous spirit there at all."

Tina gave him a playful shove, smiling.

"So, Newton," Scamander senior spoke up. "How exactly did you find yourself confronting Grindlewald in New York?"

Newt ducked his head as silence descended on the room and Queenie let out a small huff of exasperation that only Jacob, sitting beside her, appeared to notice.

"Surely Theseus has told you all this, father?" Newt queried.

"But I want to hear it from you, son." Mr Scamander said firmly. "Second or third-hand accounts can often have details missing."

Newt swallowed nervously, wondering what his father wanted to hear.

"Well," he began, "Grindlewald had been impersonating the head auror at MACUSA, Mr Graves," he began.

"Yes, Theseus told me that part," Mr Scamander nodded. "Remarkable, that such an important member of the ministry could be impersonated so easily."

"Mr Graves had his identity stolen when he was investigating Grindlewald's attacks in Europe, several months ago," Tina spoke up. "He and his team approached the place where they'd discovered Grindlewald hiding, and he overcame all of them before assuming Mr Graves' identity, keeping him prisoner while he interrogated him to learn his habits, so as to stay undetected for as long as possible. He then returned with the team, saying Grindlewald had fled."

"And no one realised?" Mr Scamander pressed, sceptically.

"Mr Graves is second in command to the president," Tina said firmly. "Anything he says, goes. Most people wouldn't have had the courage to make an accusation against him, even if they did suspect something. That's why Grindlewald chose him."

Mr Scamander made a non-committal sound at the back of his throat before returning his gaze to his youngest son.

"So, how did you discover the deception, Newton?" he pressed.

"It was a lot of little things, I think," Newt confessed after a moment. "The fact that he had accused me of trying to start a war between the magical and non-magical worlds, with no real evidence, and even accused Tina of the same thing, despite the fact that she had been the one to bring me into MACUSA-"

"Auror Goldstein _arrested_ you?" Mr Scamander echoed in surprise and Newt nodded with a smile.

"Yes, she did," he answered, glancing at the woman in question. "She knew my creatures had escaped and, wanting to do the right thing, she took me in." He let out a heavy breath. "But, despite the fact that she had done everything her law had required her to do, she still ended up in a prison cell herself, which did not seem right to me."

"Newt," Tina began, but he cut her off.

"No, Tina, you hadn't done anything wrong," Newt reminded her. "Yet you ended up in a cell with me, and the impersonated Mr Graves was able to order both of us to be put to death without trial, without real evidence, without _anything_ substantial." Looking around, he took in the shocked faces of his family.

"I…may have forgotten to tell you about that part, Theseus," Newt confessed slowly.

"Yes, brother, I believe you did," Theseus said slowly. "Why?"

"Well, I didn't die," Newt stated the obvious. "So, nothing to worry about."

"I beg to differ!" Rhiannon objected.

"It was Newt who saved us," Tina spoke up quickly. "Him and his creatures."

"Really?" Theseus asked eagerly. "How? You only told me about what happened in the subway."

"Pickett, my bowtruckle, picked the lock on my cuffs, and I was able to knock out the guards," Newt explained as his father raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Then, Tina was able to use the Swooping Evil as a stepping stone to escape the death potion she was being lowered into."

"Oh, don't remind me of that death potion," Tina placed her head in her hands as she remembered how close she'd come to dying.

"But, really, it was thanks to Queenie, that we were able to escape," Newt wanted to make sure the credit was given where it was due. "She and Jacob had been able to break into Mr Graves' office, and we were able to hide in my case while she carried it out of the building."

"And, the subway?" Mr Scamander pressed.

"There was an obscurial, right?" Theseus recalled.

"Yes, Credence," Newt swallowed nervously. "The impersonated Mr Graves had attempted to lure him to his cause, wanting to use his powerful magical ability to start a war. I tried to help the boy, but," Newt shared a glance with his friends. "MACUSA had other ideas."

"And Grindlewald?" Mr Scamander pressed,

"He apparently had given up trying to hide, by that point, I think," Newt surmised. "He told the president that he wasn't going to bow down to a law that protected non-magical people."

"That was very strange," Tina nodded. "Mr Graves was known to be a powerful wizard, but he upheld the law to the highest degree."

"He began fighting all the MACUSA aurors single-handedly, and was actually winning, until I released the Swooping Evil, and tied him up. Then Tina disarmed him," Newt smiled at the woman next to him, "I cast a 'revelio' spell," Newt shrugged, "and MACUSA took it from there."

Newt swallowed.

"Then Frank used the swooping evil venom to obliviate the city," he finished. "And that's it, really, father."

"That's it?" Theseus echoed flatly. "You just described apprehending Gellert Grindlewald himself, and you say: 'that's it'?"

"Well, no real feats of daring," Newt admitted, glancing at his father.

"You call running across rooftops chasing an obscurus, and facing Grindlewald, 'no feats of daring'?" Tina queried in confusion. "There're different kinds of bravery, you know, Newt. Most people would hex first and ask questions later, but not you. You tried to _help_ Credence, when most others wouldn't."

"So did you," Newt told her softly, and the room paused a moment as they met each other's gaze.

"Alright, this is Christmas," Rhiannon clapped her hands. "Let's move on to something lighter. Newt," she suggested, "why don't you sing for us?"

"Oh, no, Mother, _please_ ," Newt begged, covering his face. Why was the attention _still_ on him?

Tina, on the other hand, felt her jaw drop in surprise.

"Newt can _sing_?" She asked in amazement.

"Oh, did Newt never mention he was singer?" Rhiannon queried innocently.

" _No_ ," his friends exclaimed in unison and Newt sighed as he tried to find a way out of the situation.

"Theseus can play the piano," Newt shot out, gesturing to the instrument in the corner of the room. "Why doesn't he play something?"

"I will if you sing first," Theseus smiled, seeing his mother's plan. "A Christmas song, for the holiday?" He suggested.

"O, Holy Night," Rhiannon requested. "That's my favourite. My mother was muggle-born," she told their guests. "And she used to sing 'O Holy Night' every Christmas Eve. When we found Newt was a singer," she smiled, "he agreed to continue the tradition."

"Well, we can't break tradition," Jacob grinned, eager for the show.

"Indeed, not," Mr Scamander agreed, but Newt was clearly reluctant.

He'd never sung outside of his family, not even in the school choir.

"Newt."

He looked up to see Tina.

"You don't have to sing, if you really don't want to," she told him, "but, I'd love to hear you."

Newt swallowed.

"Please?" Tina prompted gently and Newt let out a long breath.

'Oh, this was really not fair,' he thought as he stood up, casting a resentful look at his mother and brother, who both smiled, unabashed.

Taking up a stance by the fireplace, Newt served his family a look.

"This is just for tradition," he qualified to the room, before closing his eyes, and readying himself.

" _O Holy Night,_

 _The stars are brightly shining_

 _It is the night, of our dear Saviour's birth."_

Tina felt her jaw drop as Newt began to sing, his eyes still closed, as if being unable to see his audience made it easier for him to perform.

And what a voice he had!

" _Long lay the world, in sin and error pining_

 _Till He appeared, and the soul felt it's worth."_

Queenie smiled as she glanced aside at her sister, watching as her expression became utterly entranced as Newt continued to sing.

" _A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices_

 _For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."_

Rhiannon smiled indulgently. Newt had always had a beautiful voice, but had always been too shy to perform for others. Glancing over at Miss Tina Goldstein, she felt her smile widen as she saw how moved the young lady was as he sang.

She'd figured there was something more to Newt's relationship with Tina Goldstein and hopefully, this performance would help her shy son earn the lady's heart.

Queenie bit her lip, trying to hide a smile, for little did Rhiannon Scamander know, Tina's heart had already been won.

" _Fall on your knees,_

 _Oh, hear the angel voices_

 _Oh, night divine,_

 _Oh, night, when Christ was born._

 _Oh, night divine_

 _Oh night, oh night divine."_

Applause rang out as Newt came to the end of the song and Tina suddenly realised tears had begun to run down her cheeks, quickly wiping them away before Newt opened his eyes, bowing shyly.

"That was… _beautiful_ ," she told him sincerely. And Newt, finally having the courage to meet her gaze, was blown away by the emotion he saw in her eyes.

"Uh," he stammered, clearing his throat. "Thank you, Tina."

Queenie grinned. "That was quite the serenade, Newt," she told him, eliciting a blush in both her sister and the magizoologist

"You should be on stage, with those pipes," Jacob added, encouragingly.

"Oh, no," Newt shook his head emphatically. "I sing at Christmas time, and to my creatures. That's it."

"You sing to your creatures?" Tina smiled. Why wasn't she surprised?

"Well, the new-borns, yes," Newt qualified. "Now, Theseus, it's your turn," he gestured to the piano, eager to get the attention away from himself. And as his older brother grudgingly stood up, to encouraging applause, Newt collapsed in a chair in relief.

As Theseus began to play, Newt felt fingers brushing his own, and turned his head as Tina cautiously took up his hand.

"You have a beautiful voice, Newt," she told him quietly, not wanting to disrupt Theseus' playing. "Thank you for sharing that with us. I know you don't like the spotlight."

"Thank you, Tina," Newt told her. "And…I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Smiling, Tina turned her attention back to Theseus' performance, though Newt's eyes were drawn to the fact she had yet to let go of his hand.

' _Was that intentional_?' he wondered, his heartrate beginning to increase. ' _Or did she just not realise?_ '

Raising his eyes to study Tina's profile, Newt swallowed nervously as he took a moment to note how the warm light in the room appeared to give her features a soft glow, bringing out the rose in her cheeks and lips…

' _Stop it, Newt_ ,' he told himself, snapping himself out of the reverie.

Queenie turned to smile encouragingly at him over her shoulder, and he realised she'd just read his thoughts regarding Tina, and he sighed, rolling his eyes at himself.

He really needed to get better at occlumency.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I'm not sure why, but I've always had the impression that Newt came from a wealthy family. Maybe it's because of his mother being a hippogriff breeder, which, in the non-magical world would likely be a horse breeder, which is a very expensive undertaking, as they'd cost a lot to keep._

 _But, considering how humble Newt is, I doubt he'd feel all that comfortable about the idea of 'showing off' his wealth, especially after living for a year in his case._

 _Rhiannon is a name from Celtic mythology. Considered to be connected to the Gaul horse goddess, Epona, Rhiannon is often depicted riding a white horse, and is considered representative of wealth, generosity and adventure. Qualities I thought sounded perfect for Newt's mother._

 _Hector, on the other hand, is a figure from Greek mythology. A prince of Troy, he was considered as one of the best warriors in the Trojan war. He was renowned, not only for his courage and daring in battle, but also his noble and courtly nature. Homer apparently described him as a:_ "martyr to loyalties, a witness to the things of this world, a hero ready to die for the precious imperfections of ordinary life." _(Wikipedia)_

 _These were qualities I thought fitting for Newt's father, who I imagined would be a former Head Auror, much like Theseus, who values bravery, and noble acts of heroism in the name of the law, as well as Justice. As such, I can see such a man being rather disapproving of someone like Newt, who was expelled from school, is such a naturally shy and awkward person, and merely wishes to write text books._

 _However, Newt's father, much like Theseus, while not always getting along with Newt, I believe still genuinely wants what is best for him. Hector and his youngest son are just so different, he has trouble figuring out what that is._

 _Now, Tina, as we know from the movie, has many insecurities. The only thing Tina really had full confidence in was her work as an auror. That protective role, one she'd likely held for most of her life, seeing as she'd practically raised Queenie by herself, is how I think she defines herself. As Katherine said of her character in one interview I watched, Tina had lost her way a bit, and the movie was showcasing how she 'got her groove back'._

 _Of course, Katherine has also said she didn't think Tina attracted a lot of male attention, so I imagine, when it comes to the dating scene, Tina has a whole host of other insecurities. So, I can imagine Tina becoming rather intimidated, once she finds out just how wealthy Newts family is, which is why I had that scene of her little meltdown. But, Queenie, being Queenie, is always there to help her sister when she needs it._

 _I'm sure Queenie can see how Tina and Newt feel about each other, and possibly are impatient for them to actually admit it. So, she's trying to 'help', wherever she can._

 _Now, I know we most likely won't see Newt singing in the next movie, but, for those of you who have seen Eddie Redmayne in 'Les Mis', will know that he has a beautiful voice, and I just couldn't resist putting a Christmas song in here._

 _Can you just imagine hearing Eddie singing 'O Holy Night'?_

 _And, actually, while I was writing the lyrics into the chapter, I was reminded of the deleted movie scene where the girls sing the Ilvermorny school song, and we see the boys falling for them. It's interesting-the Ilvermorny lyrics we see the boys' 'love struck' expressions in are: '_ Our days with you a dream' _and we actually see the moment, when Newt begins to fall for Tina, at the lyrics_ 'our one true home, our one and own.'

 _Fitting, or what?_

 _And when I was writing the lyrics for 'O Holy Night' for the chapter, I noticed the lyrics:_ 'Long lay the world in sin and error pining, till He appeared and the soul felt its worth'

 _Tina is a Thunderbird, representative of the_ soul _of a person. And she had lost her way a bit after losing her job, hoping-_ pining _\- to get her self-confidence back, and then_ He _(Newt) showed up, saw what she could do_ 'saw her worth' _and helped her get her job back._

 _Okay, I realise I'm really reading too much into this, but if the director/writers could use a school song to illustrate how Newt and Jacob are falling for Tina and Queenie, I can use a Christmas song to illustrate just how much Newt helps Tina._

 _He sees her worth, just as he sees the value in all of his creatures._

 _Okay, I've written enough here, I think. On to Christmas Day!_

 _Please leave a review!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note: Hello everybody! This is the second half, Christmas day!_

 _Hope you enjoy it._

~..~..~..~..

Christmas day dawned over Hogwarts castle with clear, crisp skies, the fallen snow of the previous day glittering pink and gold in the early morning light.

Slowly, Credence felt himself stir into wakefulness, and he opened his eyes to see his barn owl, Edison, perched above him on the headboard of his bed, fluffing his feathers proudly.

Credence rolled over, reaching for the bedside table and getting a small bag of owl treats from a drawer.

"Merry Christmas, Edison," Credence told the owl as he fed him his morning treat. "Did you get to everyone?"

Edison hooted, fluffing up his feathers again, and Credence took that to mean 'yes'.

"Thank you," Credence stroked the bird's fluffy head in gratitude, before offering his arm. "You deserve a rest in the owlery, now," he told Edison. Credence carefully climbed out of bed and opened the window set high into the wall, to allow the barn owl to fly silently out into the early morning light.

Credence watched as Edison skimmed out over the lake before gaining altitude, heading towards the castle's owlery tower.

Turning back to his room, it was only then that Credence noticed the pile of presents at the end of his bed, and his eyes widened.

He'd never really been given presents at Christmas before. Growing up, Christmas was about his Ma preaching to him, and his sisters, before handing out soup and leaflets to the homeless people in the city. Modesty, being the youngest, would sometimes be given a doll. Chastity, being Ma's favourite, received a silver cross pendant last year. But the only presents Credence remembered receiving were the cards his sisters would make for him.

He, himself, hadn't been able to really afford a proper present for his friends anyway, as he was yet to gain any paid work, and so had given each person a sketch he'd done.

But now, looking at the gifts piled at the foot of his bed, he began to wonder if his humble drawings were enough.

"Happy Christmas, Credence!" August cheered as he came into his room, a wrapped package under his arm.

"Merry Christmas, August," Credence returned.

"Here," August grinned, offering the box wrapped in green and silver. "Wanted to give you mine in person."

"Thank you," Credence smiled gratefully, accepting the gift. "Wait," he said, going to his desk and retrieving a piece of rolled up paper.

"I…haven't got any paid work yet," he admitted, "and my family never had much money, so…I'm sorry, it's not-" he stammered, but August held up a hand.

"It's fine, Credence," He said simply, accepting the scroll. "Thank you." Breaking the wax seal, August unfurled the scroll to find a drawing of himself and Credence sitting at a table, playing chess. Despite the fact that the picture didn't move, August still felt his jaw drop at the level of detailing in the drawing. Credence had even got the features carved into each individual chess piece.

"Wow," he whispered. "And you didn't use magic to make this?" He asked in disbelief.

"No," Credence answered. "Do you like it?"

"It is… _bloody_ brilliant, mate," August answered with a grin. "Thank you." Then he cringed.

"Oh, Merlin, now mine seems so generic," he sighed, gesturing to the wrapped box. "Well, go on then, open it."

Slowly, Credence unwrapped his gift to find a Slytherin scarf, gloves and tie.

"Noticed you didn't have your house colours," August explained with a smirk. "Every Slytherin has to represent. House pride, and all."

"Thank you," Credence smiled.

"So, what else did you get?" August asked, gesturing to Credence's pile.

"I don't know yet," Credence admitted.

"Well, go on then," August encouraged, taking a seat before considering his housemate carefully. "Something tells me you haven't done this a lot, have you?" He asked, and Credence shook his head.

"Presents weren't a tradition in my house," he admitted.

"Seriously?" August asked. "Did you never celebrate Christmas?"

"No, we did," Credence assured him. "It's just… Ma was more focused on giving sermons on all the different ways we could go to hell."

August stared.

"Open a present," he ordered, pointing to the pile. "Quickly."

Picking up a large box, Credence noticed it was from Jacob, and opening it, his suspicions were confirmed when he found a selection of different pastries.

"Wow," August grinned at seeing a little demiguise pastry. "Who made those?"

"My friend Jacob," Credence informed him. "He and his fiancé, Queenie, are opening up a bakery in London." He took a bite of a cinnamon scroll before passing the box to August, who picked up the demiguise creation and looked at it curiously.

"That's a demiguise," Credence explained. "It's a creature that can turn invisible. My friend, Newt, has one."

The teenager raised his eyebrows, impressed, before gesturing for Credence to continue, taking a bite of the demiguise pastry and closing his eyes appreciatively.

Next, was a new journal and stationary set from Newt, for which Credence was thankful for, as he was coming to the end of his current journal.

Then, several sets of new clothes, both day wear and formal wear, from Queenie and Tina. Again, Credence was grateful, and figured Queenie must have known he had only brought two sets of clothes with him, and both sets were now beginning to wear our due to the frequent washing and wear. She'd attached a note to a brand-new suit, which Credence had unwrapped with shock, requesting he wear it to her wedding in two days' time.

Professor Imamu had given him a book entitled ' _Power of the Ancients'_ , detailing how wizarding communities across the world practiced magic throughout ancient wizarding history, based on archaeological findings.

And Professor Dumbledore had given him a rather large basket filled to the brim with a selection of wizarding sweets.

"Nice haul," August approved. "You have quite a few friends who care about you. What about that book, there?" Credence turned to see August had spotted Willow's book, ' _The Game of Life_ ,' which still lay on his bedside table, where he'd left reading it the previous night.

"I was given that a few days ago," Credence explained, a slight blush appearing in his cheeks, which caught August's attention immediately.

"It's from a girl, isn't it?" He asked, grinning when Credence's blush deepened. "I knew it!" He cheered. "Well done, mate. Let's see." He strode over and picked up the book curiously.

"Give it back, August," Credence asked. "Please?"

Flicking through the pages, the teenager frowned.

"This is a muggle book," he stated.

"Yes," Credence wondered what was wrong with that. "But there are several things in there, that sound similar to what Professor Imamu's been teaching me about ancient magic," he gestured to the book he'd received from the professor as a gift. "I'm looking forward to seeing how they compare."

"Yeah, right," August laughed, tossing Willow's book carelessly on back onto the bedside table. "Like a muggle's capable of doing magic."

"Well, from what I've learned so far," Credence countered, "it doesn't seem as black and white as 'magic' or 'no magic'. In fact," he continued, "Professor Imamu explained to me the other day that ancient magic actually couldn't even be seen, which is why, nowadays, most wizards don't even consider it magic. But if-"

"If something's not seen as magic," August argued, "than how can you call it magic?"

Credence's dark eyes met his housemates' seriously.

"Where do muggle-born wizards came from, if they supposedly have no magic in their ancestry at all?" He countered. "It's there, in their blood, a small amount, increasing with each generation, until a wizard-child is born."

"I think 'muggle-borns' are just descended from squibs, actually," August considered. "Wizarding ancestry that's so far away, they've forgotten it, until the magic pops up again a few generations later."

"I can see your argument, August," Credence shook his head, "but I think there's more to it, than that. How else," he picked up Willow's book, "would so called 'non-magical people' be able to completely change their lives, purely by the power of their words and minds?"

"I don't know," August shrugged. "My family's pure-blood. I've never really talked to muggles."

Credence frowned.

"Is there a law against that, here?" He asked. "Like in America?"

"No," August answered, shrugging again. "We just like keeping to ourselves. Now, come on, get dressed," he encouraged, changing the subject. "Breakfast should be served by now."

~..~..~..~..

Credence felt his jaw drop as he entered the Great Hall. Holly and mistletoe festooned the walls, turning them red, white and green, and about twelve Christmas trees stood around the hall. One covered in gold baubles, another draped with silver garlands. A third was covered in what looked like real icicles, though when Credence curiously reached out a hand to touch one, he felt no cold. Another had beautiful, twinkling, coloured lights that, on closer inspection, turned out to be real, live fairies.

"Welcome to a Hogwarts Christmas," August said proudly, seeing the awe on his housemate's face.

"Have you ever even had a tree?" By now, August wondered whether Credence had grown up with much of, well, _anything_.

"Not in our house," Credence answered. "But in New York, every year they have the biggest Christmas tree on display in Central Park. I would take my little sister there every year, and we'd watch people singing carols or selling roasted chestnuts." Credence became pensive. "She loved listening to the carol singers. We used to have a game of trying to guess how many baubles were on the central park Christmas tree, and then we'd count them to see who got the closest."

"And what did the winner get?" August asked as they headed toward the breakfast table. Due to the low number of people at the school, there was only one large table set up.

Credence shrugged. "It was just a game. Ma never gave us pocket money or anything, as she didn't want us buying anything non-essential. And anything essential we did need, she bought for us, so…" Credence shrugged again. "Oh, but I do remember, one year, I found a red ribbon that someone dropped, and gave it to Modesty, for her hair." He frowned. "She had to hide it from Ma, though, as colours were not allowed."

That brought August's head up in surprise.

" _What_?" He was gobsmacked. "You weren't allowed to wear _colours_?"

"Ma was a puritan," Credence explained. "Clothes are meant to be practical and modest. Any colours outside black, grey or white, are said to encourage the sin of pride."

August's jaw dropped.

"And here I thought you just liked black," he muttered. "Although," he added with a smile, "at least now, you have some new clothes."

"Yes," Credence smiled, for the clothing that Tina and Queenie had bought for him were of colours like navy blue and forest green. Dark colours, but colours he'd never been allowed to wear before now.

And, he had to admit, a part of him was rather excited to be able to break away that much more from his mother's influence.

"Credence," Headmaster Dippet greeted as the pair arrived at the table. "It's good to see you. Happy Christmas, my good man."

"Merry Christmas, Sir," Credence greeted formally as he shook the old wizard's hand. "Thank you for having me for the holidays."

"Our pleasure," the man smiled before turning to August. "Happy Christmas, Mr Boot."

"Happy Christmas to you too, Sir," August smiled in return.

"As you can see," Headmaster Dippet gestured to the table, "we have so few here at the castle at the moment, it seemed pointless to have the large house tables out. Find yourselves a seat, boys, and enjoy yourselves."

It was then Credence finally noticed the spread on the table, and felt his jaw drop yet again. Plates heaped with bacon, ham and sausages. Eggs cooked a variety of ways: scrambled, poached, fried, boiled and even benedict. Trays of fried tomatoes, hash browns and a strange, black-coloured creation August told him was called 'black pudding'.

"Hope you're hungry," August smirked.

"Credence," Professor Imamu greeted warmly as he sat down beside her. "Thank you so much for my Nundu drawing, it's already hanging in my office. You have quite the talent."

"Thank you," Credence told her. "Drawing was one of my favourite past times, growing up. And thank you for the book," he added gratefully. "I'm looking forward to reading it."

"I thought you'd find it interesting," the woman smiled.

"Happy Christmas, Credence," Dumbledore greeted as he took up a seat opposite, gesturing to the hall. "What do you think of 'Hogwarts at Christmas' so far?"

"I've never seen anything like it," Credence answered, and Dumbledore smiled proudly at the impressed note he could hear in the young man's voice. "And thank you for the gift, Sir," he added.

"My pleasure, dear boy," Dumbledore grinned. "Our wizarding sweets are some of the perks of being part of our community," the professor's voice was serious, but his eyes were sparkling. "You must not miss out."

"I recommend the fizzing whizzbees," Professor Imamu said aside to Credence. "They make you float."

"I was just showing Headmaster Dippet the drawing you made for me, of Hogwarts castle," Dumbledore continued with a smile. "He was so impressed, that he wanted to trade with me, but I held firm," he assured quickly. "Such a precious gift must be treasured."

"What did he offer?" Imamu asked curiously.

"A bottle of firewhisky," Dumbledore smirked.

Credence couldn't remember ever having a Christmas like the one at Hogwarts. As well as the incredible food, there were mounds of Christmas crackers piled at intervals along the table. August encouraged Credence to pull the first one with him, and it went off with a loud 'BANG!', causing many people at the table to jump, including Credence, as smoke billowed out to reveal a naval captain's hat and a new, wizarding chess set, as well as several, live, white mice.

"Brilliant!" August cheered, pushing the chess set towards Credence. "You've got your own set, now. We can break it in this afternoon."

"My turn," Dumbledore grabbed one eagerly, offering the other end to Credence, who pulled…

BANG!

Coughing, Credence saw this time, the prizes were a bright red wizards hat, patterned with moving gold starbursts, along with a packet of exploding snap cards.

"Oooh, I call the hat," Dumbledore quickly put the spangled wizards hat on proudly. "This will be perfect for the next Griffindor Quidditch game."

Soon, bangs were heard along the table, as the rest of those seated began to utilise the crackers, and by the time Credence and August left the table, Credence found himself the owner of his own chess set, the exploding snap card deck, a black fedora hat, and a colour-changing bow tie.

Upon returning to the common room, Credence broke in his new chess set by losing to August, bringing their competition score 5-3 in August's favour.

As the day drew on though, Credence began to feel restless, and he wanted to get out of the common room.

"Do we have to?" August asked, quite happy to continue lazing by the fire.

"You can stay, if you like," Credence offered, not wanting to disturb his friend. "I'll just go for a walk."

But upon leaving the common room, Credence found himself heading straight for the library.

He and August had been searching for days, back through old news records, trying to find any records of witches dying approximately twenty-five years ago, who had a son.

But so far, they hadn't found many leads from the few American papers they'd found. Mostly, it was due to the sheer volume of papers they had to sort through.

But today, Credence wanted to try a different tactic. Instead of focusing on the deaths, he'd try to find the announcement of his birth in the paper. Surely, his parents would have his birth recorded and announced, along with all other babies born at the time?

The problem was, of course, Credence had no idea what his birth name was. Only his adoptive name was listed on his adoption papers, but still, he did know his birthday.

And how many American wizard boys would have been born on the same day as him?

He could at least get a list of names, from the paper, and then see if any of the parents had then died soon after…

Still, Credence knew it would be an arduous task, what with a baby having to be announced within three months of the child's birth, his announcement may not even have appeared on his actual birthday. And what if this British library didn't have the American paper he needed? Even so, he knew he wanted to find answers.

For what wizarding family would give their child to a no-maj orphanage?

Well, Credence answered himself, his birth mother may have been a witch, but what about his father? He may have been a no-maj. Which could mean, Credence considered, that his birth may not have been announced in the wizarding papers at all.

Sighing, Credence felt he could argue within his mind from every angle, but the only way to find the truth would be to actually look.

Making his way between the towering bookcases, Credence suddenly thought of Willow, surrounded by her piles of books, perhaps reading by the fire, with a hot drink in one hand as she turned a page, and he smiled.

She'd love it in here, he was sure of it.

Finally reaching the records section, Credence used his wand to identify the papers published in America, the month of, and three months after, his birthday. The section glowed blue, and he used his wand to draw them out and land on a pile on a nearby table.

Good news was: it was a tall pile, so there was unlikely to be a missing edition.

Bad news was: it was a tall pile, and it would take a very long time to sort through all the possible names sharing his birthday.

"Need help?"

Credence started, turning to find Professor Dumbledore standing at the end of a bookcase.

"Christmas day," he began conversationally, "and you are searching old newspapers?" Stepping forward, he examined the headlines. "American newspapers?" He qualified.

"I'm trying to find out who my birth parents were," Credence explained haltingly. "I thought, if I found all the boys born on my birthday, then figured out which parents died shortly afterward…"

"You could, by process of elimination, find out where you came from," Dumbledore summed up and Credence nodded.

"That's understandable," Dumbledore said slowly. "One does tend to think of family, at Christmas time…" the man's voice trailed off and Credence noticed his eyes becoming sad as his mind seemed to travel far away.

Or, perhaps, far back in time…

Then, suddenly, Dumbledore returned to the room.

"Then we shall make this your next lesson," the Professor stepped forward, wanting to help. "You have the basic searching spell," Dumbledore gestured to the pile that Credence had been able to detect that related to the year and the months he'd wanted. "Now let's work on specifics."

Credence picked up his wand, eager to learn more.

Dumbledore showed him how to specify names and dates, so that they glowed blue on the old 'births, deaths and marriages' sections of the paper, and, while it took over an hour, Credence eventually had a copied list of all the boys born in America who shared his birthday, along with their birth location and the names of their parents.

There was a whole roll of parchment filled with various names, and covered everywhere in America from Alaska to Southern Texas, San Fransisco to Florida.

"Well," Dumbledore tried to stay positive as they looked at the long list. "At least we were able to discount the girls, and any twins, or other multiple births. Who knew so many boys could be born in one day, in one country?"

Credence let out a breath, knowing he still had a lot of work to do. But now, looking at all the names, he couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation.

'One of these has to be me,' he thought.

~..~..~..~..

Tina woke up on Christmas day, feeling a little disorientated, before she remembered she was at Newt's family house.

Sitting up, she cast her eyes over the beautiful furnishings in her room, still a little amazed that this is where Newt had grown up.

Last night, she had found Mrs Scamander to be a very welcoming and generous woman, and it was clear that Newt took after his mother, as they had spent much of the remainder of Christmas Eve discussing the hippogriffs she bred, and the various creatures in Newt's case.

Theseus, Tina had been surprised to discover, was as adventurous as his younger brother, and constantly asked him questions about the people and places he'd seen on his travels. Though he clearly was not as enamoured with magical creatures as his younger brother, and he and Newt had spent thirty minutes arguing over the ethics of capturing mermaids for shows, after Newt told of how he'd found several salt-water mermaids in Greece, crammed into glass tanks and made to sing to lure in muggle customers, and had set them free.

Newt's father, Hector, on the other hand, was a very different story.

The man never seemed to speak much, and when he did, he was either patronising Newt, praising Theseus, or being formally cordial to Tina, Queenie and Jacob. The only time the stern man seemed to show any real sign of softness was when he regarded his wife.

There had been a time when he'd made a comment regarding Newt, about how writing wasn't much of a 'manly', profession and Tina had to force herself to take a breath, before reminding Mr Scamander of the handbooks given to new aurors, and how writing textbooks was how experts of their profession shared their knowledge with the masses.

Newt had blushed furiously, before thanking her quietly for coming to his defence, only to have his father state that a man should be able to stand up for himself.

"What can I say, Father?" Newt stammered as Tina bit her tongue. "Tina's a natural protector. It's what makes her such a good auror."

It was only due to Mrs Scamander, and, Tina suspected, Queenie, that the night passed on in relative peace. Nevertheless, she'd been grateful when Queenie suggested it was time for bed, and doubly so, when Newt offered to walk her to her room.

"Thank you so much for coming, Tina," Newt had said as they stood outside her bedroom door. "I don't know how I could've survived the evening without you."

"My pleasure," Tina smiled. "After meeting your mother, I can tell you get your love of magical creatures from her."

"Would you like to meet the hippogriffs tomorrow?" Newt had asked eagerly, and Tina smiled seeing his face light up at the prospect of spending Christmas with creatures instead of people.

"I'd like that," she'd nodded, before bidding him goodnight.

Now, it was Christmas day, and Tina quickly got dressed and headed downstairs where she noticed a large Christmas tree standing in the living room, which she was sure hadn't been there the night before, when they arrived.

Under the tree, were piles of presents. More than Tina had expected to see.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Tina," a voice greeted and Tina looked around to see Poppy jump down from the bottom branches of the tree, having just put the last of the decorations up. "I hope you slept well?"

"Merry Christmas, Poppy," Tina greeted. "And yes, the room was very comfortable, thank you." She gestured to the tree. "Did you put this up yourself?"

"Master Scamander got the tree yesterday," Poppy supplied, "and it's my job to decorate it for Christmas morning," the house elf clapped her hands proudly. "It's one of my favourite jobs, Miss. When the boys were young, they would even help me."

Smiling, Tina could just imagine Newt enthusiastically decorating the tree. Seeing how tall the tree was, she was sure young Newt would have been the one climbing its branches to reach the top.

"They even made some decorations," Poppy added affectionately, pointing to a small, wooden dragon dangling from one of the lower branches. "See? There is one of Master Newt's. He made it when he was ten."

Curiously, Tina stepped forward to cup the dragon decoration gently in one hand. It was made from what looked like pieces of driftwood, with tiny leaves and shells making up the dragon's scales.

"Okay, this is adorable," she mumbled to herself, but Poppy still heard her, smiling brightly.

"Poppy is so happy you're here, Miss Tina," she told her, gaining the auror's attention.

"Why's that?" She asked, curious, and Poppy twisted her pillowcase nervously.

"Master Newt hasn't brought a lady home to meet the family since Miss Leta, when he was at Hogwarts," the house elf admitted and Tina felt her chest tighten.

"The two of them were so close," Poppy continued, her ears drooping sadly. "But after what she did… Master Newt was hurt so badly, and…" here, the house elf wiped tears from her eyes, and Tina went forward to hug her, comfortingly.

"You are so kind Miss Tina," Poppy told the woman, surprised at the hug.

"Poppy," Tina began cautiously, "what did Leta do to Newt?"

The house elf stepped back.

"Master Newt never told the family, what Miss Leta did," Poppy admitted. "But he did tell me." She raised her eyes proudly. "But I am his house elf, Miss. And while I know you mean well, I will keep Master Newt's secret."

Sighing slightly in disappointment, Tina nevertheless nodded.

"You're a good house elf, Poppy," she told her. "The Scamanders are lucky to have you."

"Thank you, Miss," the house elf puffed out her chest. "I am proud to serve them."

Thinking she should change the subject slightly, Tina looked around.

"Do you know if Newt's up yet?" She asked.

"He and his mother are at the stables, Miss, checking on the hippogriffs," Poppy informed her eagerly. "Would you like me to show you?"

Tina smiled.

"Lead the way, Poppy."

~..~..~..~..

The winter snow crunched under Tina's feet as Poppy escorted her outside to where the large stables were located. Tina had to pause on the path a moment to take in the landscape, feeling her jaw drop yet again.

Having arrived yesterday evening, she hadn't had the chance to really see outside, but here, in the pale morning light of Christmas day, Tina was able to take in the large paddocks and tree covered hills that spread out before her like a patchwork quilt.

"it's beautiful, isn't it, Miss?" Poppy asked, noticing Tina's expression.

"Yes, it is," Tina admitted, a little shakily. "Does the Scamander family own all of this?" Tina gestured to the scene before them.

"All the way down to the river, Miss," Poppy pointed and Tina could just glimpse a river glistening in the sunlight through the trees. "Mistress needs to have lots of space for her hippogriffs, especially in summer, when the foals begin to learn to fly," she explained. "We have muggle repellent charms on the boarders, so no muggles can see the hippogriffs flying as they pass, but Mistress likes to keep the creatures as relaxed as possible, which means to use as little magic as possible to keep them safe."

"Having more land to roam in, means non-wizards are less likely to come across them," Tina surmised.

"Exactly, Miss," Poppy nodded. "In fact, it was Master Scamander who bought the extra land bordering the river," she added with a smile. "He loves Mistress so much, he bought her the land she needed for her hippogriffs," the little elf sighed happily. "Master would do anything for her. Poppy is so lucky to work for such a caring family, Miss."

Tina pursed her lips to prevent herself commenting as Poppy continued to lead the way to the stables.

"Are you warm enough, Poppy?" Tina asked, concerned, as the little elf was still only wearing her pillowcase.

"Oh, yes Miss," Poppy assured her. "House elves can use magic with our Master's permission, and so I'm using magic to keep myself warm when I have to be outside in winter." She clasped her hands together fondly. "The Scamanders have all said they would be very sad if I became sick, and would happily take care of me, as I have them." The little elf sighed again. "Are they not a most caring family of wizards?"

"Well, how can anyone not like you, Poppy?" Tina asked. "I'd be sad if you became sick from the cold, too."

"Miss is too kind," Poppy gushed tearfully. "Poppy is so happy you're here, for Master Newt."

"Oh, um, Poppy," Tina stammered, "Newt and I aren't-"

"You are so much nicer than Miss Leta," Poppy continued, appearing not to hear Tina's mumbled stammers.

Tina's stunned silence lasted till they reached the stables, which had a warmth that filled her the moment she stepped inside.

There were bales of hay stacked high in a loft above her head, and the large room was filled with the sweet smell of horse, though there were feathers strewn across the floor as well.

As she moved into the main area, where the stables were lined up, Tina felt herself staring, as she took in the rows of large, wooden stables, each labelled with the name of the hippogriff it contained. Tina had never actually seen a hippogriff in real life before, and was amazed as she took in the half eagle, half horse creatures as they ate their breakfast, lay dozing on the hay pile in their stable, or flapped their wings restlessly.

Newt and his mother were at the far end, appearing to each be grooming and checking over a hippogriff each.

Rhiannon's hippogriff had a palomino horse-half with a pure white eagle-half, and she had a horse's brush strapped to her hand as she ran it over the hippogriff's flank, moving with confidence as she spoke quietly to it.

Newt's hippogriff was a striking beast, with a black horse-half which blended seamlessly into the white and black patterned feathers that made up the eagle half at the front.

Newt appeared to be checking its hooves and claws, and Tina was amazed at how the creature simply stood calmly, helpfully lifting up each leg so that Newt could inspect and clean where necessary, digging out any pebbles and dirt with a hooked tool in his hand.

"Miss Tina is here," Poppy announced, coming to a stop not far from the working pair.

"Oh, Happy Christmas, Miss Goldstein," Rhiannon greeted with a smile. "I'd like you to meet Brianna and Bran," she gestured proudly to the two hippogriffs she and her son were tending to. "My prize breeding pair."

"They're magnificent, Mrs Scamander," Tina told her.

"Here," Newt came forward eagerly. "I'll introduce you."

Newt demonstrated how to greet a hippogriff by bowing, and Tina copied his moments as best as she could, becoming quite surprised when both hippogriffs bowed regally back to her.

"Well done, lass," Rhiannon smiled.

"I'm not surprised," Newt stated, bringing Tina forward to pat Bran's large head, and the hippogriff closed his eyes, enjoying the attention.

"Wow," Tina whispered, and Newt couldn't help the smile on his face at seeing how enchanted Tina was.

Rhiannon, however, was smiling at the enchanted look on her son's face as he gazed at the raven-haired woman, before asking Poppy how far away breakfast was.

"I know you like giving people a lie in on Christmas morning, Mistress," Poppy began, "so it should be ready in about an hour."

"Thank you," Rhiannon smiled in gratitude, before leading Brianna back into her stable. "That's all the 'griffs done, I think son," she announced, using her wand to send the grooming equipment sailing back into the tack room. "Shall we go back inside?"

"Actually, Mother," Newt began, "I think I'll introduce Tina to the other hippogriffs." He turned to the woman at his side. "If you'd like?"

"Yes, please," Tina answered automatically. "This is actually the first time I've seen a hippogriff in real life," she admitted, her eyes studying Bran curiously.

"Really?" Newt asked, eyes wide. "Oh, then you're in for a treat," he told her, carefully leading Bran back into his stable.

"Well, I'll leave you kids to it, then," Rhiannon smirked as she headed back to the house, Poppy following at her heels.

Sometime later, Queenie and Jacob entered the stables, led by Poppy, to find Newt showing Tina how to groom a chestnut and grey hippogriff.

"Wow," Jacob marvelled as he studied the animal Tina was tending to. "What's this creature called, Newt?"

"A hippogriff," Newt supplied proudly. "My mother breeds them."

"Breeds them?" Jacob echoed curiously. "What for?"

"Oh, many people keep them as pets," Newt explained. "Others like to show them. Much like how muggles show horses, I suppose," he added. "Here," he offered, gesturing them forward. "You can meet Euros."

This time, Tina showed her sister and Jacob how to bow to meet a hippogriff, and both were delighted when Euros bowed back, and allowed them to come forward to pat her on the head.

"Mother also teaches people to ride," Newt supplied proudly. "Euros is one of our best riding 'griffs."

"These guys, are amazing," Jacob smiled, running his fingers over Euros' feathers in wonder.

"Oh, Newt," Queenie remembered, gesturing to Poppy," we came to tell you both breakfast is nearly ready. Time to come inside."

"Alright," Newt sighed before leading Euros back into her stable, stroking her under the chin before closing her gate.

"Let's head on in."

~..~..~..~..

Breakfast was a far more relaxed affair than dinner had been, the previous evening. Mr Scamander even resigned to pulling a Christmas cracker with his wife, and while she was delighted with the prize of a toy Pegasus that actually flew, she gave her husband the top hat.

Poppy had done a brilliant job, and Tina, Queenie and Jacob got to experience a full 'English Breakfast'.

"Wow," Tina pushed back her plate, completely full. "I doubt I'll need to eat for the rest of the day."

"That's generally the point, I believe," Newt told her with a smirk, as Mrs Scamander ushered them towards the large Christmas tree in the living room.

"Presents!" Mrs Scamander announced happily, passing a parcel to her husband with a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, my Dear," Mr Scamander smiled, opening it to reveal a new wand holster.

"This one, you can hide up your sleeve," Rhiannon told her husband happily. "That way, if you are attacked unexpectedly, your wand can appear in your hand practically instantly."

"Oh, My Dear," Mr Scamander gazed at his wife fondly as she smiled. "You do know me well."

"Where did you get that, Mother?" Theseus asked curiously as he watched his father test his new wizarding gadget. "I wouldn't mind one, myself."

"You don't have to worry," Rhiannon passed him a parcel. "For I got you one also. If my son is to be facing Dark wizards on a daily basis, he will have every advantage he can get. Which reminds me," she added, passing a third parcel to Tina. "I got one made for you, as well."

"Oh, Mrs Scamander," Tina was surprised, and grateful at the same time. "Thank you. You didn't have to-"

"I know," Riannon shrugged. "But I wanted to. Every good auror needs all the help they can get. And getting your wand in your hand that little bit faster can make all the difference in a duel."

"Well said, My Dear," Mr Scamander smiled.

"You didn't get me one, did you?" Newt asked in trepidation.

"No," Rhiannon told him. "I know you prefer not to fight, Newt," and she passed him his present, which turned out to be a new set of clothes.

"Your old clothes are looking rather worn, from your travels, sweetheart," she told him, hoping the practical gift would be well received.

"Thank you, Mother," Newt told her, "you're right, they are."

Rhiannon gave Queenie a pearl necklace, 'as a wedding gift,' and Jacob a self-stirring mixing bowl, 'to help out in the bakery,' which they were both utterly delighted with.

"And Poppy," she called the house elf over to pass her an eiderdown quilt, folded and tied with a red bow.

"I know how cold it can get in your room," she told the elf softly as the little elf was brought to tears.

"Mistress is so generous!" Poppy cried as she wiped her eyes.

"Alright," Rhiannon clapped her hands. "That's my gift-giving done. Who's next?"

Each of them took a turn, selecting their gifts from under the tree and delivering them to their intended recipients.

As well as his mother's gift, Newt received a new sketchbook from his brother and a book on historical magical warfare from his father (which Newt doubted he would ever read, but attempted to at least sound grateful at the fact his father got him a present at all). Jacob, of course, gave him a delicious selection of pastries, which Newt shared with the group. From Queenie, he received a new first aid potions kit, containing everything from pepper-up potion, to essence of dittany. Newt's surprise at the practicality of her gift must have shown on his face.

"I knew you were running, low, honey," Queenie explained. "The work you do can get kinda dangerous. Don't want you getting hurt without the means to make yourself better."

"Thank you, Queenie," Newt told her sincerely, knowing this would have put a dent in her savings.

However, Newt's favourite gift had been from Tina.

He had opened the small box to find a fine new quill of dark blue.

"That's called an 'everlasting ink' quill," Tina explained as Newt admired it. "No more messing around with ink wells: you can just write. I thought it would be useful for when you're taking notes on creatures out in the field."

"This is perfect, Tina," he told her gratefully, meeting her eyes. "Thank you."

He reached under the tree before handing Tina and Queenie a box each.

"Great minds seem to think alike, it seems," Newt commented shyly, and Queenie and Tina both opened their presents to find they had each been given quills, too.

"Oh, how pretty," Queenie smiled as she admired her new, vibrant, pink quill. "Thank you, Newt."

"That's made from a fwooper feather," Newt told her, and Queenie's jaw dropped as she read his mind.

"You made this, Newt?" She asked, admiring her quill again. "It's very fine work."

"Thank you," Newt ducked his head. "But, I have so many feathered creatures. I often find feathers throughout my case, so, I thought: why not do something with them?"

"What creature's this one from?" Tina asked, admiring the pale golden brown feather she held.

"That's one of Frank's, actually," Newt told her, and Tina nearly dropped the quill in shock.

"This is a _Thunderbird_ feather quill?" She asked.

Newt smiled. "Fitting, for someone from Thunderbird house, don't you think?"

"Oh, Newt," Tina wasn't sure the man realised just how touched she was by the gesture, for Thunderbirds had always been her favourite creature. " _Thank you_."

"You're welcome," Newt swallowed nervously. "Now, Jacob," he continued on quickly, handing his friend a small wrapped present. "This one's for you."

The baker unwrapped it to find a leather-bound book.

"That is a copy," Newt explained, "of my grandmother's recipe book. I'm sorry Mother," he turned quickly to Rhiannon before she could open her mouth. "But Jacob is an American, trying to start a bakery in England. He needs to know how to make a scone properly, if his bakery will have any success here. My grandmother was a muggle-born," Newt reminded his friend. "And she had some of the best recipes for our English classics, which I think you may find useful."

"Newt, thank you," Jacob told him sincerely, knowing how important family recipes were. "I promise, I will study this, and do your grandmother proud."

Eventually, the presents dwindled down, until everyone had given out their gifts.

"Who are these from?" Rhiannon picked up a set of scrolls, each individually tied and sealed, from under the tree.

"These are for the four of you," she announced, reading the names on the ribbon, and passing them to Newt, Tina, Queenie and Jacob.

"I think I know who these are from," Newt said, sharing a look with Tina. And all together, they each unfurled their scroll to find a beautiful drawing.

"Oh, it's Pickett!" Newt exclaimed as he studied his gift. "Oh, he did a brilliant job- it looks just like him!"

"I've got the niffler," Jacob grinned, studying his picture of the little scamp, surrounded by his treasures.

"I've got the occamy," Queenie gushed, studying the detail of the drawn feathers and scales. "It's so beautiful. He did brilliantly!"

"What did you get, Tina?" Newt asked curiously, noticing Tina had barely moved since opening hers up.

"Newt," she said quietly.

"Yes?" He asked, causing Tina to quirk a smile.

"No," she shook her head. "I mean: I got Newt." She revealed her drawing, and Newt was surprised to see a drawing depicting himself, complete with a tiny Pickett standing on his hand, who he was apparently attempting to coax onto a tree branch, dotted with the other bowtruckles in his collection.

"A very good likeness," Rhiannon commented. "Who drew it? They have quite a talent."

"A…friend of ours," Newt stammered, as Tina resumed studying the picture she'd been given. "He's staying at Hogwarts at the moment."

"I wonder why he'd give Tina a drawing of Newt, though?" Queenie asked innocently.

"He probably just couldn't figure out which creature to draw for me," Tina answered quickly, rolling up the parchment, "and so, drew their caregiver, instead."

"Which turned out to be the perfect one," Queenie smiled, causing both Tina and Newt to blush.

It wasn't long after the gift giving, that everyone felt it time to take their leave.

Theseus was the first to make the move to go, saying he needed to get back to the office to continue to liaise with the French Ministry, on possible Grindlewald sightings.

Mr Scamander shook his hand with both of his, while Mrs Scamander gave her eldest son a hug.

"It was so good to see you, sweetheart," she told him. "Please, take care of yourself."

"I'll do my best, mother," Theseus told her fondly, before turning to his younger brother.

"Will you be coming to my first book promotion? It's on the 28th." Newt asked, keeping his eyes low. "I mean, it's alright if you can't make it-"

"I'll do my best, brother mine," Theseus assured him, drawing him in unexpectedly for a hug.

" _Just ask her on a date, you idiot_ ," he whispered in Newt's ear, before letting him go quickly.

"See you at the Ministry, Auror Goldstein," Theseus added as Newt blushed furiously, before he grabbed his bag, stepped into the fireplace and disappeared in a flash of flame.

"Guess that's our cue to go as well," Tina announced, realising she couldn't relax for the rest of the day if others were working.

"Thank you so much for having us, Mr and Mrs Scamander," Queenie told their hosts on behalf of the group.

"Our pleasure, dearie," Rhiannon assured them.

"Do _not_ be late for my wedding on the 27th, Newt," Queenie told him.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Queenie," Newt assured her.

"Hey Newt," Jacob asked, "want to come by for a drink later? I'm getting married in two days," he grinned. "I want to celebrate."

"Of course," Newt agreed, before meeting Tina's gaze hesitantly.

"Thank you, again, for coming, Tina," he began. "I'll see you at the wedding?"

"My pleasure," Tina smiled. "And, of course. The Best Man and Maid of Honour can't miss the wedding."

And in a few moments, Tina, Queenie and Jacob had also disappeared in a burst of flame.

Newt turned to his parents.

"Will you both be at my book promotion on the 28th?" He asked.

"Of course, sweetheart," Rhiannon said, glancing at her husband before hugging her son.

"Merry Christmas, Newt."

Smiling, Newt grabbed his floo powder and stepped into the fire place.

"Newton."

Newt turned to see his father staring at him pensively.

"I like Auror Goldstein," he told him slowly. "She seems a good woman."

Newt stared, unsure if he heard correctly.

"You…you like Tina?" He echoed.

"We both do," his mother added with a smile.

Newt let out a relieved breath without realising it. Swallowing, he cleared his throat.

"Good," he stammered. "I'm glad you like her."

"We hope to see her again, soon," Rhiannon added, perhaps not as subtly as she'd intended.

Avoiding his parents' eyes, Newt decided it was definitely time to leave.

"Happy Christmas, to you both," he said by way of farewell.

Dropping his floo powder, he felt the flames engulf him.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _First of all, before anyone queries August's dismissive attitude towards muggles at the beginning of this chapter, I feel I should remind everyone that August is a pure blood wizard. And we know that there was a 'Boot' amongst the earliest followers of Tom Riddle whilst he was at school. So, while this future death eater will likely be a nephew to my character, due to the time correlation, I think it still shows that the Boots, in England, are still in a rather 'superior' mindset._

 _But, when you think about it, many pure blood wizarding families do indeed keep to themselves, so how can the pure blood wizard children have any real ideas about muggles if they never interact with any? The closest thing a pure blood child will ever get to a muggle, I'd imagine, is when they reach Hogwarts and have the opportunity to interact with muggle born wizards and witches._

 _So, while August may be kinder than most other 'pure bloods', I think he still has a lot of opinions, taught to him by his family, that are predominately based on ignorance._

 _I had Credence be an artist in my version because, as he is so quiet, I'd imagine he observes a lot. He sees, he understands, he learns via watching. And as he is such an internalised person, I can see him, not only writing what he thinks and feels, but also drawing that which he has no words for._

 _And he shows his understanding of his friends by the gifts he gives them. He expresses his friendship to August, by having them both depicted in his drawing, playing chess, their first real 'bonding' experience, when August taught him to play._

 _He gave Professor Imamu a picture of a nundu, as that was the creature she'd mentioned living near her village in Africa._

 _He gave Dumbledore a picture of Hogwarts castle, as he'd seen how Dumbledore had cared for all his students, and his work at the school._

 _He drew Pickett for Newt, as he knows Pickett is Newt's favourite creature, even though he won't admit it._

 _He gave Jacob the niffler, as that was essentially, the creature that led to him being introduced to the wizarding world._

 _He gave Queenie the occamy, as that was the one beast she had helped to recapture, and she is as unique and beautiful as the occamy is._

 _And he gave Tina a picture of Newt, as he knew that he was the one most important to her._

 _I have an idea of what may have happened to Credence's mother, but I admit, I have no idea what his real name could possibly be- whether he's connected to a character we've met before or not._

 _Do you want to hear my theory? If not, just scroll down to the review button at the bottom of the page._

 _Well, in the movie, we hear Mary-Lou Barebone saying that Credence's mother was a 'wicked, unnatural woman.' This seems to imply that she knew that Credence's birth mother was a witch._

 _How would she know that?_

 _On Pottermore, J. K. Rowling describes a group of wizards called Scourers, who, while they initially worked as law enforcement in the early years of the European Wizarding community, they eventually turned on their own kind, developing a love of authority and cruelty. The Salem Witch Trials even involved Scourers acting as Puritan judges, who knowingly sent both no-majs and genuine wizards alike to death, to settle their own scores._

 _When MACUSA was formed, many Scourers escaped capture and hid in no-maj communities. Outcasts from their people, the Scourers instilled in their offspring, not only a deep belief of magic, but also a deep hatred of it._

 _Mary-Lou Barebone, I believe, is a descendant of a Scourer. As such, her love of authority and cruelty has been passed down through her family, as well as her ability to recognise magic more easily than the average no-maj in America._

 _As such, I'm willing to bet that, if she knew that Credence's birth mother was a witch, she likely would have done something to contribute to her death. Possibly even being the one who killed her._

 _And I keep on hearing Modesty's creepy little rhyme:_

" _My momma, your momma, gonna catch a witch._

 _My momma, your momma, flying on a switch._

 _My momma, your momma, witches never cry._

 _My momma, your momma, witch is gonna die._

 _Witch number one, drowned in a river._

 _Witch number two, got a noose to give her._

 _Witch number three, gonna watch her burn._

 _Witch number four, flogging take your turn."_

 _Can you see where I'm going with this? It's still just a theory, so please tell me what you think. I'm sure I'm not the only person who's thought of this._

 _Moving on…_

 _Now, we know from J. K. Rowling, that Newt took the blame for Leta's experiment involving a beast at Hogwarts, which led to Newt getting expelled. However, I highly doubt that Newt would have actually told his family that he'd taken the blame for someone else, or else, I'm sure, his family would have fought for him to stay in school and, in turn, wind up with Leta being the one expelled._

 _However, something tells me, Leta told Newt to take the blame, and then 'dropped him' after he did so._

 _That would have hurt so much. Falling on the sword for someone only to have them stab you in the back as well. So, while it would have been too late, and I imagine too humiliating, for Newt to confess the truth to his family at this point, I can imagine him telling Poppy, just so_ someone _knew, and asking her to keep his secret._

 _And I just had to get a scene where Newt is teaching Tina about the hippogriffs as well- another chance for him to show off his animal husbandry and spread the love of magical beasts? Newt could never resist the opportunity, I'm sure._

 _Okay, I really think I've written enough now._

 _The next chapter (or two) will be detailing the events leading up to and including Jacob and Queenie's wedding!_

 _Then it'll be the lead up to Newt's first promotional event for his book._

 _Then, I'm thinking it'll start to get interesting._

 _Please stay tuned!_

 _And please, leave a review!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note: Hello everybody! Thank you so much for the reads, favourites and reviews! Sorry it's been a while since I've updated. I've had a couple of ideas for things I want to see later in the story, so I've been writing those scenes down, while they're fresh in my mind._

 _I wanted to post chapters nine and ten together, as they are linked as the rather 'fluffy' chapters, involving the day before and the day of Jacob and Queenie's wedding._

 _Here's chapter nine, hope you like it!_

~..~..~..~..

Boxing day arrived without great fanfare, though there was a sense of anticipation, for it was Jacob and Queenie's wedding the following day.

Credence, however, was in the records section of the Hogwarts library once again, doing more research with August's help. The pair were scouring the 'Births, Deaths and Marriages' sections of the old newspapers, trying to find any names of the parents' from Credence's list, crossing off any that didn't appear before the date Credence was adopted, indicating they hadn't died during that time.

A couple of names had appeared in the death notices, however, and Credence had circled them, as possible candidates for his family.

"Well, we're making a good dent, at least," August tried to stay positive, for they'd been able to cross off almost a third of the parchment so far.

"Mmm hmm," Credence stayed focused on the yellowed pages before him, frowning as he read the faded newsprint. Taking up his quill, he drew a line through another name on his parchment list.

Sighing, he read the next name on the list, before reaching for the earliest paper for what felt like the millionth time.

'And, here we go again,' he thought, pulling the paper towards him. The work was tedious, to be sure, but Credence was certain, that if they could find out who hadn't died, and who had, then it would certainly narrow down the search.

"Maybe we should just look through all of the names in one paper, and then move through the papers," August suggested, rubbing his eyes. "Instead of looking for one name in all of the papers, and moving through the names."

"It would be too easy to miss a name," Credence countered. "I want to be thorough."

"You are certainly doing that," August granted. "I'm just saying: is there a faster way to do this?"

"Why don't you look up different kinds of searching spells?" Credence suggested. "There may be a way to magically locate the names?"

"There's an idea," August granted getting up, and with that, he moved into the main library. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Same here," Credence called back, turning his attention to the newspaper in front of him on the table once more.

As he opened it, however, the pages fell open to an article he hadn't noticed before.

" **Remembering the lives that were scoured away'** read the old headline, and Credence saw a drawing of a woman in puritan dress, dangling, lifeless, from a hangman's noose.

Frowning, Credence bent forward to read, and found the article was regarding the anniversary of the end of the Salem witch trials, detailing some of the history, as well as lamenting the many innocent lives, both magic and no-maj alike, that were lost, due to the fear of the no-majes, and the cruel and power-hungry 'scourers' who had turned on their own kind, hating and hunting those who practiced magic.

' _When MACUSA was formulated, in 1693, it is believed that many scourers escaped their own persecution by hiding amongst no-maj communities,"_ Credence read _. "It has been said they began to favour non-magical children over wizarding children, instilling their offspring with the ability recognise magic more readily than those around them, and also to hate and fear it more fiercely.'_

' _It is unknown how many descendants of these scourers still exist today,_ ' the article summed up. _'But let us hope that their influence will never again cause another tragedy as that which occurred in Salem, Massachusetts, 1692.'_

Credence felt his mouth go dry as he thought of his adoptive mother.

His mother had been a scourer, he realised. Or at least a descendant of one.

Scanning his eyes over the news page, his eyes were drawn to an article just below the remembrance piece, that sent a chill down his spine.

' **Witch found dead in Martha's Vineyard'**

' _A witch has been discovered dead early this morning, off the coast of the small island of Martha's Vineyard, south of Cape Cod, Massachusetts,_ ' Credence read. _'The local no maj authorities have yet been unable to identify the victim, but our aurors have identified her as Wilhelmina Fischer, descendant of the famous Wilhelm Fischer, of the First Twelve aurors of MACUSA.'_

" _I just can't believe this could happen to her," a colleague spoke to us earlier today. "I always used to think she was invincible, you know?"_

' _Indeed, as a descendent of the 'First Twelve,' Wihelmina was a well respected witch, who worked for the MACUSA_ _Surveillance Wizarding Resources Department_ _(_ _M.S.W.R.D._ _). Her wand was found on her person, though it had been broken in half. However, examination of the body indicates she was severely struck with a blow to the head, before her body was dumped in the water. It is unclear how such a witch could have her life come to an end in such a way'_

' _The local authorities, both wizard and no-maj alike, have yet to find any suspects in this tragic death. Though it has been suggested, based on the seemingly non-magical cause of death, that Fischer was killed by those in the non-magical community, and there are now rumours of a resurgence of scourer activity. MACUSA authorities declined to comment.'_

Credence swallowed as he finished reading the small article. Pulling his list of names towards him, his eyes raked the list, but no, no Wilhelmina Fischer was on the list of parents.

However, he noted, his eyes moving to another name, there was a family listed as having lived in Martha's Vineyard…

"Credence?" A voice called, causing the young man to jump.

"So sorry," Dumbledore apologised as he came forward. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright, Sir," Credence stammered.

"Making any progress in your search?" The professor asked, coming forward to read over the young man's shoulder.

"I'm…not sure," Credence admitted. "I mean: August and I have been able to cross out the names of the people who _didn't_ die between my birthday and adoption, so far," here, Credence showed Dumbledore his list of names. "A couple have been found to have died, so I circled them, as possibilities."

"Well, that's progress," Dumbledore admitted.

"But then I've just found this," Credence added, showing the article he'd just read to his teacher, who studied it, a frown creasing has forehead as he read.

"Why do you think this is significant for you?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"Because I think Ma was a scourer," Credence informed the older man, who raised his eyebrows in surprise, before nodding as he considered the theory.

"She hated magic, and could recognise it, even when others in the city couldn't," he explained. "And she could even see it in me, before I ever could," he realised. "And she hated me for it."

Credence felt his breathing become shallow as a theory began to form in his head.

"She knew my birth mother was a witch," he reminded himself, beginning to shake. And Dumbledore was quick to wrap Credence in a hug as the younger man's eyes started to turn white.

"You're safe, Credence," Dumbledore reminded him, holding the poor young man close. "You're safe, she can't hurt you anymore."

Credence whimpered as black tendrils began to rise from him, his obscurus longing to be released, to punish...

"Remember your friends Credence, your true family," Dumbledore encouraged. "Newt, Tina, Jacob, Queenie…"

And at the mentions of his friends, Credence began to regain his mind.

' _Newt, Tina, Jacob, Queenie.'_ He chanted to himself. _'Newt, Tina, Jacob, Queenie…'_

"That's it, Credence," Dumbledore smiled proudly as he felt his student calm down, and his eyes regain their brown colouration. "Well done. You're getting faster, I believe."

"No, I'm not," Credence swallowed, shaking his head. "I nearly lost it, that time. I could feel it."

"But you didn't," Dumbledore reminded him firmly, taking him by the shoulders. "You kept control."

Hanging his head, Credence appeared exhausted as he turned to take in all the papers spread out over the table he'd been working at.

'I still have a lot of work to do,' he observed, his thoughts apparently clear on his face as Dumbledore studied his expression.

"The truth is, Credence," Dumbledore told him, hesitantly, "there is a chance you may never find all the answers to your questions. However," he continued, seeing the expression tighten on his student's face, "you may yet find some. What I'm trying to say, Credence," he finished gently, "is that, while you may find the names of your birth parents in your research, a name does not say who you are as a person."

"I don't want to be a monster," Credence muttered.

"And so, you won't. You aren't," Dumbledore assured him. "Because who we are is shown in our _choices_. As you have already proven, going against your adoptive mother's teachings of fearing magic to instead, learning how to use it."

"I just want to know if I'm part of a family," Credence's voice had dropped to a whisper now, and Dumbledore was quick to wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders once again.

"But you are, Credence," Dumbledore told him. "You have Newt, Tina, Jacob and Queenie," he put forward. "They care about you, protect you, and accept you for who you are. Is that not what a family does?"

Credence's expression became pensive as he considered the question.

"Speaking of which," Dumbledore continued in a lighter tone, "The reason I came here was to see if you were ready to go. I'm to take you to Jacob and Newt, so you can all get ready for the wedding tomorrow."

Credence's head snapped up. Was it really that time, already?

"The school term is starting up again soon, isn't it?" Credence asked slowly.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Just after New Year's. But, not to worry," the professor assured him. "You'll still be coming here for lessons, and you will still be able to utilise the library. I've been thinking of asking Professor Slughorn, if he'd teach you potions-"

"Queenie said she'll teach me," Credence informed his teacher. "It was one of her best subjects at school, apparently."

"Excellent," Dumbledore smiled, as Credence used wandless magic to return all the papers to their rightful places, and pack up his notes, his muscles relaxing further at the magical release.

"So, do you have everything with you?"

"Yes Sir," Credence nodded, grabbing his small bag. "Thank you for teaching me the extension charm."

"You're very welcome," Dumbledore told him, gesturing to the door. "Shall we?"

Pausing to say goodbye to August, Credence followed the Hogwarts professor out of the library.

~..~..~..~,,

"Jacob, you need to relax," Newt told his friend as he helped clean the new bakery in preparation for the coming business opening in the New Year. The shop windows were covered, so Newt was able to use magic to help make the job go faster, but Jacob was practically shaking as he worked, wiping down the benchtops after having practised some of Newt's 'English' recipes, and there were tables covered in trays of scones, sponges and various other baked goods.

"I'm fine, Newt," the baker did his best to appear calm, even as he knocked over the bucket of water for the third time that hour.

"No, you're nervous," Newt informed him surely, cleaning up the spill with a wave of his wand. "But, rest assured, you have nothing to worry about."

"That's what you said when we were following the erumpent in Central Park," Jacob muttered.

"But we're not tracking an erumpent," Newt reminded him. "We're not even in New York. We are in England, and you, my friend, are getting married tomorrow."

Jacob paused in his work as he seemed to be trying to remember to breathe.

"Yeah," he said, a smile pulling at his mouth. "I'm getting married tomorrow." He then buried his head in his arms with a groan.

A knock at the shop door prevented Newt from commenting, and the magizoologist instead went to find Credence and Dumbledore standing on the pavement.

"Oh, hello," Newt greeted cordially as he let the pair in.

"You'll have to forgive me," Jacob told the pair once Newt had done the introductions, for Dumbledore hadn't met Jacob before. "I'm getting married tomorrow. And while I'm getting married to the woman of my dreams…"

"Jacob still has an extreme case of nerves," Newt supplied casually.

"Yes, I've been told about the big event. Congratulations, my good man," Dumbledore smiled. "This calls for a celebration." And with a wave of his wand, a decanter filled with an amber liquid appeared on the benchtop Jacob had been scrubbing, along with four glasses.

"Bit early for alcohol, isn't it?" Newt wondered as Dumbledore poured a glass and passed it to Jacob.

"Not if it's medicinal," Dumbledore chuckled as Jacob sculled his drink. "And by the looks of things, I'd say it's needed."

"Thanks," Jacob panted as he slammed the glass onto the bench. "I needed that."

"My pleasure," Dumbledore smiled as he filled up his glass once more. "For while I can't put myself directly in your shoes, I do know that some liquid courage can help settle the nerves."

Credence studied Jacob in confusion. The man had always been so happy-go-lucky, it was strange to see him appearing so…anxious.

"I don't understand," Credence spoke up, unable to compute the scene before him. For Jacob and Queenie had seemed so in love, always regarding the other affectionately, or giving the other a gentle touch when they thought no one was looking. Or even if someone was looking.

"I thought you wanted to marry Queenie?"

"Of course, I do!" Jacob appeared surprised by the query. "More than anything!"

"Then, why are you so nervous?" The younger man asked.

Both Jacob and Newt appeared to find the walls and floor of the shop exceedingly interesting, unsure how to answer, while Dumbledore merely chuckled, pouring himself a glass.

"It's like being nervous before having to make a public speech," Newt told Credence slowly. "You're standing there, with everyone watching you, and your life is about to change forever… a marriage is a very big event in one's life."

"I just want everything to go well," Jacob added, his voice shaking slightly as he drank. "I just want to make Queenie happy." He sighed as he downed the last of his glass. "This is nice stuff, thanks," he told Dumbledore gratefully, holding up his glass. "Can I have another one of these?"

"Well, I guess the stag party's starting early then," Newt commented drily as Dumbledore poured the nervous groom-to-be his third glass. "Just pace yourself, Jacob. You do not want to attend your wedding with a hangover."

"I'll be fine," Jacob stammered as he lifted the glass to his lips. "I just need to calm down."

"What's a 'stag party'?" Credence asked slowly, unfamiliar with the term.

Jacob turned to Credence in surprise. "You've never heard of a 'stag party'?" He asked, incredulous. "I'd have thought, a young man like you…"

"Credence's mother was a puritan, remember," Newt reminded Jacob, who gave an "Ooooh," of understanding, the alcohol appearing to already be affecting him, as he took another, slower, sip of his drink.

"A 'Stag party' or 'Bachelor Party', is thrown for a groom-to-be before his wedding, as a way to 'say goodbye' to the single life," Newt explained haltingly to Credence. "I've never really seen the point of them myself, though most people just see it as an excuse to get drunk and act stupidly before the wedding day, when they're supposedly expected to become more serious."

"The ladies have a 'Hen's night,'" Jacob added helpfully. "Hey Newt, what do you think Queenie and Tina will get up to?"

"Haven't the foggiest," Newt answered measuredly, seeing his friend was already getting tipsy. Whatever Dumbledore had brought in the decanter was clearly strong. "Tina doesn't seem the 'party' type."

"Tina's the Auror, yes?" Dumbledore asked and Newt nodded in the affirmative.

"Oh, no," Jacob suddenly became worried. "You don't think Queenie'll meet someone else, do you?"

"Jacob," Newt shook his head, "of course not."

"No, I can see it," Jacob continued morosely. "She always looks so beautiful. Tina'll take her out for a drink tonight, and Queenie will look like a total bombshell, and some hotshot guy will see her, and-"

"Queenie will read his mind, and be reminded of why she chose you," Newt cut off Jacob's anxious ramble. "And take great pleasure in telling the 'hotshot' that she's engaged and getting married the next day."

"Yeah," a smile began to spread across Jacob's face. "She's somethin' else, my girl, isn't she?"

"Did you say this woman could read minds?" Dumbledore queried, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes, Queenie's a legilimens," Newt supplied.

"Fascinating," the older man muttered pensively.

"Yeah, it's amazing," Jacob gushed, grinning now, his former anxiety apparently forgotten. "Queenie can _see_ people. Not just read their surface thoughts, but she can see the type of person they are, deep down." He sighed. "She is such an accepting person," he continued, his eyes now far away. "Beautiful both inside and out."

Dumbledore chuckled at the awe filled expression on the baker's face.

"You are very much in love, my good man," Dumbledore observed cheerily, passing a glass to Newt, encouraging him to join in.

"Oh yeah," Jacob nodded in agreement. "And she's marrying _me_ ," he exclaimed, placing a shocked hand on his chest in emphasis. " _Me_ , of all people." A look of confusion flickered across his face.

"Why would she pick me?" He mumbled, staring into his drink. "She's so beautiful, and kind and accepting. She could have any man she wanted."

"And she wants you, Jacob," Newt reminded his friend gently. "You're the one she's going to marry tomorrow."

"Yeah, but _why_?" Jacob couldn't get past his bewilderment all of a sudden, and at that moment, finding an answer to his question seemed dire. "What does she see in me?"

"You mean, she's never told you?" Dumbledore queried.

"Every time I've asked," Jacob informed the room, "she's said something like 'I've never met a guy as nice as you.'"

"Then there's your answer," Newt stated.

"But there are loads of nice guys," Jacob objected. "You're a nice guy," he gestured to Newt.

"Thank you," Newt accepted the compliment graciously, "but as I've told you, Jacob, I annoy people, mostly. But people like you, Jacob. And Queenie doesn't want to marry me, she wants to marry you."

"Why?" Jacob asked again.

"Why else?" Dumbledore added his opinion. "She loves you. What more of a reason is needed?"

"Very good point, Professor," Newt granted.

"Tell me more about your future wife, Mr Kowalski," Dumbledore invited. "Why do you want to marry her?"

"Oh, where do I begin?" Jacob gushed, apparently not seeing the amused twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes.

"She is such a kind and gentle person," Jacob began. "Her smile can just light up a room. You remember, Newt?" Jacob sat up straighter, placing his glass on the table as he got into his story. "When Tina took us to their apartment, and we first met Queenie?"

"Yes, I remember," Newt nodded. He had been more concerned with trying to find ways to leave the apartment quickly to find his creatures, than anything else, at the time.

"Now," Jacob continued to Dumbledore, "if a couple of strange guys turned up at your house, especially a no-maj, which is against the law, in America," he added for Dumbledore's benefit, "most wizards there, or even here, I bet, would be sayin' " _get outta my house."_ But not Queenie." Jacob informed Dumbldore intently. "Her reaction was: _"Oh, you poor thing, you haven't eaten anything all day! You need food!"_ Now, I ask you," Jacob put to the room, "how many people would do that?"

Dumbledore chuckled.

"She certainly sounds like a rare find, Mr Kowalski," the older wizard assured him. "You appear a lucky man."

"Yeah, I am," Jacob smiled. No longer interested in his drink. "But, what can I say?" He shrugged. "I'm a sucker for a kind heart and a beautiful smile."

Newt finally took a small sip of his drink, the image of Tina's smile floating before his eyes.

"Now, Newt, on the other hand," Jacob added, a little louder, causing Newt to snap out of his reverie. "He seems to prefer a woman with a bit more fire and spunk."

The magizoologist ducked his head, as all the eyes in the room landed on him.

"Yes, I agree, Mr Kowalski," Dumbledore said knowingly. "Newt's not afraid of fire, though it's got him into more than a bit of trouble, as I recall."

"Really?" Jacob asked as Newt turned beetroot. "That sounds like a story."

"Not really," Newt stammered.

"You think so?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "It's the reason you got expelled. Don't think I didn't know that," his voice was firm as Newt looked up in surprise. "Why do you think I defended you? I knew you hadn't done it, but there was no proof, and as you'd already confessed…"

"Wait," Jacob sat up straighter, staring at Newt. "You got expelled from school because of a girl?"

Newt awkwardly fiddled with the mostly full glass in his hands, looking everywhere but at his friends.

"You may have noticed, Mr Kowalski," Dumbledore told the baker, "that our friend Newt is a very selfless person. More than willing to give help to others, purely because he wants to."

"Yeah," Jacob nodded earnestly, looking around at his new bakery. "I know first-hand."

"The world could do with more people like Newt," Dumbledore said proudly. "However, that Hufflepuff generosity and loyalty got him into trouble, as, if one does not have the luxury of being a natural legilimens, people can take advantage of such a generous, loyal soul."

"That's not what happened," Newt objected, but Dumbledore continued to regard him with a kind of sad understanding.

"When did you last speak to Leta?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Uh," Newt considered. "Not-not since…" He swallowed, and Jacob's jaw began to drop as realisation struck.

"No," Jacob whispered. "You take a bullet for her, and then she dropped you? That's cold." The baker shook his head in sympathy. "I'm sorry, pal."

"That's not what happened," Newt stated firmly, though he still avoided eye contact. "She's part of a rather controlling, elitist family. They wouldn't have let her associate with anyone they deemed 'unworthy'. She would've been forced to…" He gestured vaguely, swallowing. "Even when we were in school," he elaborated, talking faster now. "She'd often talk about how she didn't like being controlled by her family. Even my own father," Newt continued defensively. "When I got expelled, he barely acknowledged me afterward. Even now, he still is ashamed that I'm such a disappointment. That's what many pure bloods families are like here. So, believe me, when I say: _that's not what happened_."

Dumbledore continued to regard him with that same sad understanding, as he calmly took a sip of his drink.

Not liking the feeling of tension in the air, Credence cleared his throat from where he stood, close to the wall, causing everyone to start slightly.

"To Jacob and Queenie," he promted quickly.

"Yes, good idea, Credence," Newt grasped onto the suggestion gladly, raising his glass. "To Jacob and Queenie: may your wedding go well tomorrow, and your lives together be happy."

"Thanks, guys," Jacob smiled, raising his own glass. "To my beautiful bride-to-be."

~..~..~..~..

"Where are you going?"

Tina looked up as she put on her coat to see her sister standing in the doorway of her hotel room.

"Head Auror Scamander has asked all the aurors to his office to meet the French Delegation," Tina supplied. "It's all been paperwork and owls, so far, but now, there's a chance they've found something, and we may have to move our entire operation to Paris, if it turns out to be valid."

"Of course," Queenie nodded in understanding. "That's important. But Tina," she added worriedly, before her sister cut her off.

"I promise, Queenie," Tina assured her sister. "We will do something together tonight, and I will be there beside you tomorrow. You will be radiant, you will marry the man you love, and you will be happy for the rest of your life."

"Oh, I hope so," Queenie smiled and Tina walked over to give her sister a hug before heading down stairs, Queenie on her arm.

"Hello Mr Graves," Queenie greeted brightly as they caught up with the Head Auror on the final landing, as he and a couple of others waited for everyone to assemble.

"Hello, Miss Goldstein," Graves greeted warmly. "I hope you had a good Christmas."

"Yes, thank you," Queenie smiled. "Though I think It will pale in comparison to my wedding tomorrow."

"Oh, yes," Graves remembered. "Congratulations, again. I hope it goes well."

"Thank you, Mr Graves," Queenie said graciously. "I'm sure it will. Especially," she added pointedly, pulling Tina closer to her, "if you can guarantee my Maid of Honour will be free to attend tomorrow morning at ten o'clock?"

"Of course," Percival smiled slightly, glancing at Tina.

"Thank you, sir," Queenie continued. "Tina's the only family I've got. I don't know what I'd do if she couldn't come." She smiled at her sister and Mr Graves' expression became more pensive.

"Actually, Goldstein," Mr Graves turned to his auror. "Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off, as well as tomorrow morning? Twenty-four hours," he qualified. "So you can help your sister get ready for her big day?"

"Oh, thank you, Mr Graves!" Queenie was delighted, but Tina was confused, catching the eyes of the others in her team and seeing the resentment building.

"Thank you, sir," Tina granted, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the offer. "But as part of your team, surely I should be-"

"This is just a glorified 'meet and greet', today, anyway," Graves insisted. "Boxing day: no one really wants to work. Besides," his tone became softer as he met her eyes earnestly, "family is important. You can always catch up with work," he gestured to the group gathering, "but your only sister's wedding day?" He shook his head. "You shouldn't miss any part of that."

"Thank you, sir," Tina began again. "But I don't deserve special treatment..."

"It's not special treatment, it's remembering what's important," Graves spoke over her firmly. "If we do end up going to war, do you want to regret never spending this time with your only sister before her wedding day?"

Tina lowered her eyes thoughtfully before turning to her sister, considering the question seriously.

"One of the reasons Grindlewald chose to impersonate me, is because I don't have any family," Graves added quietly to Tina. "No wife, no children, no siblings..." He cleared his throat slightly, swallowing. "No one who could tell if someone else had come home in my place."

Tina swallowed as Graves' dark eyes met her own seriously.

"Work is important, Tina," he granted. "But with what's coming… family is most important. What do you do your job for if not for this?" He gestured to Queenie. "For your loved ones to be safe?"

"But that's why I think I would be better working with you," Tina insisted. "To help protect my family."

"And I admire that dedication," Graves nodded. "It's what makes you a good auror, why I want you on my team. But, unlike me, you are not just an auror, Tina. You are a sister. And right now," he nodded once more to Queenie. "Your sister needs you more that we do. Twenty-four hours."

Swallowing, Tina nodded.

"Twenty-four hours," she agreed. "Thank you, Sir."

"I'll get Bennet to catch you up tomorrow, Goldstein," he informed her as he turned away. "Congratulations, again, Queenie. Now," he spoke to the aurors now fully gathered in the entry hall of the Leaky Cauldron, "are we all here?"

"All except Goldstein," someone muttered causing smirks to pass around the group, and Tina felt her stomach clench uncomfortably.

"Knock it off," Bennet spoke up.

"Thank you, Bennet," Graves nodded to the auror in question, frowning as he addressed the group.

"Do any of you have your only sister getting married, or any other such event, occurring in the near future?" He asked, and was met with silence.

"Thought so," Graves nodded. "So then: as we don't have anything better to do, we are going to the Ministry of Magic to meet the French Delegation. Any questions? No? Good. Now," he finished firmly, "stop your complaining, and let's go."

The aurors began to leave, Bennet waving and serving a wink in farewell, until Queenie and Tina were the only ones left in the entry hall.

Tina swallowed, before turning apologetically to her sister.

"I didn't mean to sound as if I didn't want to-" she began, only to be cut off by Queenie's hug.

"Oh, Tina," the blond woman sighed. "When are you going to accept that you are only human, and so can't do everything?"

Tina let out a breathy laugh in relief that her sister wasn't offended.

"Of course not," Queenie assured her. "I know how much your job means to you."

"It was kind of Mr Graves to give me twenty-four hours off," Tina granted as they made their way back upstairs.

"Being a prisoner changed him," Queenie's expression became sad. "He kept thinking that no one would know he was gone. And he thought that, if he did die, there's be no one left to really mourn him."

"What?" Tina gasped. "But he's such a respected man-"

"With no close family to say goodbye to," Queenie finished. "That's why he gave you the time off. He wants you to spend time with your family. And that's why most of the others in your group don't have a family. He didn't want to take people away from loved ones, if anything happened while you were all over here."

Tina considered this as they reached Queenie's room.

"This is a different side to the Mr Graves I know," she granted.

"Six months of being held prisoner by a manipulative man like Grindlewald can really change your perspective, I think," Queenie said, sighing.

~..~..~..~..

"What are you looking at, Credence?"

The young man started at the voice, turning from the newspaper-covered window to find the three older gentlemen regarding him curiously.

"Nothing," Credence answered, avoiding eye contact.

"You've been staring through that gap for the past ten minutes," Dumbledore observed lightly. He had planned on returning to the castle, but Newt and Jacob had both insisted he share a drink or two with them, to celebrate.

"He's probably trying to get a glimpse of the girl who works in the flower shop down the street," Jacob supplied with a smile as he came over to join the younger man at the window. "Any luck?"

"No," Credence answered. "Maybe she's not working today."

"Oh, so you _were_ trying to spot Willow!" Jacob exclaimed triumphantly, causing Credence to blush, realising he'd walked right into that one.

"Who is this?" Dumbledore asked with interest.

"A muggle girl," Newt supplied. "She gave Credence a rose on his first day here in London."

"Oh, how sweet," Dumbledore smiled.

"Hey, Credence," Jacob spoke up, considering. "Why don't you head over to the flower shop and see if Willow's there? It's been snowing all day, she probably can't be outside, selling flowers on the street, as usual."

Credence's eyes widened.

"You mean: just walk over there?" He repeated numbly, feeling his anxiety building at the thought.

"Tell you what," Jacob continued, getting an idea, and he gathered a selection of baking he'd made that morning. Placing the best ones in a basket, he handed it to Credence.

"Take this over there," he suggested. "I need to get the word out on the street that my bakery is opening soon, and one way to start would be to let the surrounding business know, so they can be my first customers."

"Good idea," Dumbledore agreed. "Promoting the business, and giving Credence an excuse to visit his lady friend, all at the same time."

"Alright, you're embarrassing him, now," Newt interjected, seeing the blush spread further across the younger man's cheeks. "You shouldn't push him if he doesn't want to go talk to her."

"No, I do," Credence admitted, without thinking, his quiet voice stammering slightly. "I just…"

"Feel terrified?" Jacob nodded. "Kind of like how I was feeling at the thought of getting married tomorrow."

Credence paused. This is what Jacob felt like?

"Like, you really want to do something," he said slowly, "but still, the thought of actually going through with it is…"

"Nerve-wracking," Jacob finished with a smile. "See?" He clapped Credence on the shoulder, "You're getting it."

Credence studied Jacob curiously. If this was how he felt, and Credence was only contemplating going over to talk to Willow, how much more nervous would Jacob then be feeling at the prospect of actually getting married?

The baker's nerves earlier suddenly made so much more sense.

"How are you going to get through tomorrow?" Credence asked bluntly, though he was genuinely curious, as well as concerned, for his new friend.

Jacob raised his eyebrows in surprise at the question, chuckling slightly.

"Well," the man considered, "I just need to keep reminding myself that it's worth it," he explained. "I know I'm gonna be nervous," he admitted. "But I also know that, if I don't marry Queenie, I'm gonna regret it for the rest of my life."

Credence simply stared.

"Look," Jacob told him gently. "I know you don't know Willow that well, but from what Queenie tells me, she seems a really nice girl. So, let me ask you," he put to Credence, who swallowed. "While you may be content to just stare out the window… if Willow is over there, but you don't actually talk to her today: will you regret it?"

Credence once more peeked through the gap between the papers stuck across the bakery windows and his anxiety gave way to a wistful expression before he nodded.

"Then go on," Jacob encouraged. "Just say that you're bringing gifts from the new bakery from across the street, opening in the new year."

Credence ducked his head, unsure. True, He'd walked her and her friend Eliza home the other day…but that was at night, and there was no one else around. Today, surely, the shop would be full of customers. Even if Willow was working, he reasoned, she'd probably be too busy to talk to him.

"Tell you what," Jacob added, seeing the young man was still nervous. "I'll even go with you."

"Really?" Credence asked, this time hope and relief filled his voice. He wouldn't have to go alone!

"I'm the baker, I should be the one promoting my business," Jacob granted. "And this way, if Willow is there, you can talk to her while everyone else enjoys my baking." Opening the door, he gestured Credence to follow him. "Come on, buddy. See you soon, fellas."

Dumbledore chuckled quietly, waving, as the pair left.

"Oh, to be young again," he mused, a slight melancholy note to his voice.

"You're not that old, Professor," Newt reminded him.

"I'm old enough, Newt," Dumbledore corrected gently. "Old enough to know that, while there are a multitude of things I am good at, 'matters of the heart' appear nowhere on that list."

~..~..~..~..

The flower shop was warm as Jacob and Credence stepped inside, the various floral perfumes of the many arrangements on display mingling in the air as people inside sheltered from the cold weather, taking advantage of the post-Christmas sales.

Credence's eyes darted around the shop until he found Willow, who was busy artfully arranging a new bouquet of flowers for a customer.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" A voice asked. It was the portly man in his fifties Credence had seen on his first day, exploring London. Balding, with a rather Romanesque nose, the man sported a cheerful smile as he came forward to greet his newest customers.

"Hi, how're you doing?" Jacob asked, shaking the man's hand. "My name's Jacob Kowalski, I'm renting the patisserie across the road."

"Oh, welcome to the area!" The man smiled happily as he shook Jacob's hand. "I'm Henry Branch, I own this shop."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Branch," Jacob grinned before offering the basket. "Credence and I just thought we'd stop by to share some of our creations with you, freshly made this morning, so you can get a preview before we open in the new year."

"Oh, thank you!" The man appeared delighted, accepting the basket. "How kind."

"I'd really appreciate the feedback," Jacob informed the flower-shop owner. "This is my first time opening a business in England, and I need to get familiar with the preferred tastes, here. So, if there's anything you or your staff," he added quickly, "can think of to help me improve my recipes, I'd appreciate it."

"Certainly, Sir," the man grinned. "We'd be happy to help however we can."

"Jacob's getting married tomorrow," Credence spoke up, noticing Willow had finished her work.

"Really?" Mr Branch exclaimed. "Congratulations, Sir."

"Thank you," Jacob said graciously. "It'll just be a small ceremony at the Town hall."

"Does your wife have a bouquet?" Mr Branch asked slyly.

"No," Jacob admitted after a pause. "Actually, I don't think she does."

"Then come," Mr Branch gestured Jacob further into the shop. "You have given us a gift. For you, good sir, you may take a selection of any flowers you like from our Special stock, and we will give your wife a free bouquet for her wedding tomorrow."

"Oh, wow, thank you," Jacob was touched by the gesture, knowing the flower business must be struggling a bit during these cold, winter days, and he gratefully followed Mr Branch to a display.

"Credence?"

Credence looked up to see Willow come around the counter as the customer she'd served headed towards the door.

"Hello," Credence greeted, suddenly feeling his mouth go dry.

"It's wonderful to see you," she told him, standing before him, seemingly calm, though Credence noticed she was twisting her fingers together nervously. Following Credence's eye line, Willow quickly moved to clasp her hands behind her back, out of sight. "I hope you had a good Christmas?"

"Yes," Credence answered quietly, nodding. "Thank you."

"I received the drawing you sent me," Willow continued with a smile.

"Oh, you did get it?" Credence asked in relief. He hadn't been sure if Edison would've been able to deliver her gift, as she wasn't part of the magical community.

"Yes, it was beautiful," Willow nodded in assurance. "Thank you. You're quite an artist."

"I'm glad you liked it," Credence had struggled over what to draw for Willow, before deciding on his owl, Edison.

"I love owls," the young woman insisted. "I've always thought there was something rather otherworldly about them. In fact," she continued enthusiastically, "in many cultures throughout history, the owl has been a symbol of everything from wisdom to magic. The Greek Goddess of Wisdom, Athena, was often represented by an owl. And-"

"Calm down, Willow, no need for a lecture," a voice said and Eliza appeared to link an arm with her friend.

"Sorry," Willow cringed in chagrin, meeting Credence's gaze apologetically. "I do have a tendency to babble."

"It's okay," Credence assured her. "I like listening to what you have to say."

"Wow," Eliza raised her eyebrows in surprise, a knowing smile tugging at her mouth. "That actually sounded sincere. I'm impressed, Mr Barebone."

"Oh, Credence, you remember my friend, Eliza?" Willow gestured to the young woman at her side.

"Yes, I do," Credence nodded. "Though, I didn't get your last name?"

"Musgrove. Eliza Musgrove," she introduced herself. "Hopefully, making a better impression than I did last time?" She added.

"Last time wasn't so bad," Credence answered evenly. She had, after all, complimented him… albeit profusely. "It's nice to meet you properly, though, Miss Musgrove."

"Likewise, Mr Barebone," Eliza smiled, glancing at her friend.

"Girls," Mr Branch called for their attention. "Counter."

Willow turned to see a couple standing at the counter, waiting to be served.

"Sorry Mr Branch!" Willow called back, but Eliza grabbed her arm, stalling her movement.

"I'll handle these customers, Willow," she told her friend breezily. "You stay here." With that, she moved to greet the customers at the till with a smile, thanking them for their patience.

Credence stood quietly facing Willow, unsure of what to say, but aching for something to warrant her staying with him.

"So, what brings you to the flower shop today?" Willow asked, and Credence was grateful for the topic.

"My friends were able to get the patisserie across the street," he informed her, gesturing where Jacob was perusing flowers with Mr Branch.

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

"And Jacob has brought a selection of his baking over for you all to try, as he wants to get his recipes right for 'the English palette,'" he quoted carefully.

"That's very kind of him," Willow smiled, wondering how the English palette differed from the American one.

"And as he's getting married tomorrow, Mr Branch offered to return the favour by letting him pick out a bouquet for his bride," Credence finished.

"Oh," Willow recalled, "that's the woman I met before Christmas, yes?" She frowned slightly as she tried to remember. "The woman in pink? I gave her a carnation…"

"Queenie," Credence supplied helpfully.

"Queenie!" Willow exclaimed. "Yes, that was her name. So, sorry," she covered her mouth, guilty at her outburst. "I just have a terrible memory for names."

"It's alright," Credence assured her. "You've remembered my name."

"Well, you're easy to remember," she smiled fondly.

"Do you want to come with me?" Credence blurted out, and he had to fight the urge to slap his hand over his mouth.

Willow's eyes widened.

"To the wedding tomorrow?" She asked.

Not trusting himself to speak, Credence simply nodded. _Why did he ask her that?_

"When is it?" Willow asked cautiously, and Credence felt himself pause.

She hadn't said 'no' straight away…

"Ten o'clock tomorrow morning," Credence answered slowly, doing his best to keep the tremor from his voice. "At the Town Hall."

"Ten o'clock?" Willow's face fell and Credence felt his own heart sink. "I'm so sorry Credence," she said. "I'm working at the animal shelter tomorrow morning."

"It's alright," he said quickly.

' _It was short notice anyway, what did you expect?_ ' He mentally berated himself. _'Did you really think that-'_

"What are you doing tomorrow evening?" Willow asked and Credence had to take a moment to refocus.

"Sorry?"

"Well," Willow swallowed, turning to look behind her at Eliza, who gave a 'go on' gesture with an amused smile.

"Eliza and I were planning on going to the cinema, tomorrow evening," she continued slowly, lowering her gaze shyly, just as Credence's eyes snapped up to her face in surprise. "Would you care to join us?"

Credence simply stared, the question apparently taking it's time to register in his mind.

 _Did she just ask him…?_

"It's okay if-"

"No," Credence quickly cut her off as reality finally hit. "I mean…" he stammered as Willow regarded him in confusion. " _Yes_. I'd love to join you. I've never actually been to a cinema before," he admitted.

"Really?" Willow asked in surprise. "Well then, you're in for a treat. It's on Regent Street," she told him. "Do you know where that is?"

"I'll find it," Credence nodded.

"Alright," Willow smiled. "We'll meet you there at seven o'clock?"

"Seven o'clock," Credence echoed.

"Alright Credence?" a voice asked, and Credence started to find Jacob standing behind him with a smile.

"Time to go, pal," he said. "Thanks again, Mr Branch," he called over his shoulder.

"I'll have the flowers delivered to you at the town hall tomorrow, Mr Kowalski." Mr Branch called back. "Congratulations once again!"

~..~..~..~..

"I think it would be a brilliant idea, Newt," Dumbledore assured his former pupil.

"But do you think Professor Dippet would approve?" Newt wondered. "Not to mention, the Board would have to give its approval."

"I guarantee," Dumbledore insisted, "that within a few months of your book hitting the shelves, Care of Magical Creatures will be added to the school curriculum."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Sir," the magizoologist smiled.

Appearing to consider a moment, Dumbledore leaned forward.

"Credence has truly proven to be a wonder, hasn't he, Newt?" The older man mused. "The oldest obsurial known, and he's already beginning to harness his magic, as well as to control the obscurus within him."

"It's extraordinary," Newt nodded in agreement. "I admit, I've been wanting to ask Credence, if he'd allow me to go through some tests with him, or at least write some of his experiences down, so we can use the information to help any other obscurials in the future."

"He can actually have control," Dumbledore continued, lost in thought. "Perhaps, if it had been known that obscurials could still learn to use their magic…"

"Maybe we wouldn't have had so many die in the past?" Newt finished, and was struck by the level of grief he saw in his old professor's eyes.

"Indeed," Albus nodded, appearing to see something far away for a moment, before returning to the room once more.

"You said you'd met another in Sudan?" He pressed. "A girl? Tell me about her."

"Well," Newt began, but was interrupted as the bakery door opened, indicating Jacob and Credence had returned, bringing with them a swirl of snow.

"Gentlemen!" Dumbledore greeted, hiding his slight annoyance with a smile. _'Now wasn't the time, anyway'_ , he told himself.

"How did your sojourn turn out?"

"Very well," Jacob announced, clapping Credence on the shoulder with a grin. "Credence got a date for tomorrow night."

"Really?" Newt asked as Albus simply applauded slowly, chuckling.

Credence turned beetroot as he took a seat, but a shy smile tugged at his mouth.

"Knew you had nothing to worry about," Newt smiled, impressed that, as shy as Credence was, he'd been able to gather the nerve to ask Willow out so soon.

"I've said it before," Jacob insisted, "girls love a foreign accent."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked in amusement.

"Yeah," Jacob nodded surely, his eyes travelling to Newt. "Maybe Newt can use his British charm on Tina?"

"Oh, no, we're not talking about me," Newt said firmly, not wanting to take anything away from Credence's success. "Where are you and Willow going, tomorrow, Credence?"

"The cinema," Credence answered, blushing again. "Do you know where Regent street is?"

"Yes, I do," Newt nodded. "I'll show you."

~..~..~..~..

Tina had asked the innkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron for suggestions, and after a little surveillance, Tina had decided to take her sister to a little, out-of-the-way, place near Kensington Gardens, for what she called an 'Engagement party', as opposed to a 'Hen's Night'.

Queenie had made Tina promise she wouldn't talk about work, which, for Tina, was a little difficult. But, for her sister, she would do her best to focus on lighter topics. Although Tina felt, for her, there weren't many subjects that remained.

"You picked a nice place, Teenie," Queenie smiled as she glanced around the room. The place was full, but not crowded, and many of the tables had couples or small groups. It wasn't a fancy place, as neither could afford it, but it was still a far cry from 'The Blind Pig' back in New York.

"Thanks, I tried," Tina said as she sipped her ice-water. "It's not every day my little sister's getting married, and you deserve to celebrate. What's wrong?" She asked, seeing a sad expression cross her sister's face.

"Do you think Ma and Pop would've liked Jacob?" Queenie asked quietly.

"Of course, they would," Tina insisted. "I mean, like me, they'd be sad that you've had to leave America to be with him," she admitted, "but I know they'd be so happy for you, Queenie." She took up her sister's hand, giving it a squeeze. "You deserve to be happy."

"Thank you, Tina," Queenie smiled tremulously, squeezing her sister's hand in return. "You deserve to be happy too."

"I'll be happy, when you're married to the man you love, and Grindlewald is behind bars," Tina stated, taking another sip of her ice-water.

"And Newt finally asks you out on a date?" Queenie prompted, causing Tina to choke on her drink.

"Queenie," Tina began, once she'd stopped spluttering, "tonight is not about me. It's about you."

"But you're my big sister," Queenie countered. "I want you to be happy too. And you deserve love just as much as I do."

"You're the one getting married tomorrow," Tina reminded her.

"But you'll be getting married someday," Queenie insisted, resting her chin on her hand dreamily. "Maybe to a Brit in a blue suit?"

Tina sent a reproachful look in her sister's direction. She'd clearly read her thoughts during Christmas dinner at the Scamander house.

"What?" Queenie asked innocently. "You were right: he does look handsome in blue."

Thankfully, their waiter turned up at that moment, ready to take their order.

"Out celebrating something, ladies?" He queried good-naturedly. He was young, maybe in his late teens, or early twenties, looking like he was working his way through university.

"Absolutely," Tina nodded affirmatively.

"I'm getting married tomorrow," Queenie's smile was radiant.

"Oh, congratulations," their waiter smiled. "Tell you what, I'll talk to the owner, and see if we can get you something special."

"Oh, how sweet," Queenie smiled. "Thank you."

Once the waiter had moved off, Queenie giggled.

"What?" Tina queried, knowing her sister had read a stray thought somewhere.

"He was asked by some men at the bar to find out if I was single," Queenie whispered. "He was just thinking how disappointed they'll be."

"Where?" Tina asked eagerly, wanting to see the looks on their faces.

Queenie gestured with her eyes, off to the side, and Tina turned as nonchalantly as possible, to spy the waiter having a quick word to a couple of men in expensive suits, each wearing a silk cravat.

As the waiter moved off, Tina had to take effort not to smile as the men appeared to slump slightly in disappointment.

Laughing quietly, Tina turned back to her sister. 'Those poor men…'

"You are such a heartbreaker, Queenie," she teased her sister fondly. She wasn't surprised though. Queenie had always been beautiful, with her large blue eyes and her cherub-like blond curls. In fact, during school, Queenie was often referred to as 'the gorgeous Goldstein sister,' while Tina was simply 'the older Goldstein sister.'

For a long time, she had resented the fact that Queenie received so much admiration, when Tina would only have a boy talk to her, if he wanted a copy of her class notes. But Queenie couldn't help the fact that she was born beautiful, any more than she could help being born a legilimens.

And, after all the times Queenie complained of what all those admiring boys were often thinking, Tina eventually realised that she'd rather have one, truly genuine, admirer, than a dozen phoney ones.

"And now, you have him," Queenie smiled brightly, following her sister's train of thought.

"You're sure about that?" Tina asked. Her sister had made mistakes before, after all. For, while Queenie could read minds, she couldn't help people changing theirs.

"You should have heard what Newt was thinking when he saw you walk down the stairs at Christmas, Tina," Queenie giggled at the memory. "It was so adorable, his mind practically went _blank_ , he was so stunned."

Tina raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Blank?" She echoed.

"Yeah," Queenie nodded. "He was just thinking: _wow_. So yes," she reported smugly. "I am very sure that he is a genuine admirer."

Tina felt a little stunned herself, at the information. She'd never received much male attention, so now, the idea that Newt genuinely saw her in that way… Tina felt a little outside her comfort zone, unsure of what to do.

"Just go with it," Queenie encouraged. "Wear your 'Maid of Honour' dress to his book promotion." She added as an afterthought.

"He'd have seen me in it three times in almost as many days," Tina countered.

"And he'll be happy about that," Queenie shot out cheekily as she took a sip of her drink.

Their waiter turned up with their orders at that moment, along with a bottle of champagne, as a gift from the owner.

"For the bride to be," the waiter smiled as he poured. "You cannot celebrate a wedding with water."

"Thank you so much," Queenie smiled gratefully as he left them to their meal.

Tina smiled as she raised a glass with her sister.

"To you and Jacob," she toasted.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: so, what do you think?_

 _Possible spoilers below, so if you don't want to know my ideas and/or theories, please scroll down to the review button below!_

 _Okay, here we go…_

 _I've heard a theory around the place, saying that Credence is a descendent of Ilvermorny Founder, Isolt Sayre via her squib daughter, Martha._

 _I agree with this theory, as a powerful obscurial would most likely come from a powerful family. And what family would be more powerful, than those descended from both Morrigan and Slytherin?_

 _And, when researching places in Massachusetts, I found an island called 'Martha's Vineyard'. And, considering Martha was the name of Isolt's daughter, I thought: what could be a better place for Credence to be born? I felt I had to introduce the location here, and I figured it could be something like the American's version of 'Godric's Hollow.'_

 _Though, as it appears Credence's birth mother was a witch, I've been thinking which wizarding family to connect him to, and found the 'First Twelve': a list of powerful witches and wizards who were the first Aurors in America, and thought, being linked to that family via his birth mother's side, may help further explain his natural power._

 _I just haven't decided who to link him to, even though he'd carry his father's last name, not his mother's._

 _There is a 'Potter' on the list, a distant relative of Harry's, but I thought that would be too obvious a link._

 _Then, I thought of Graves. His ancestor is on the list, and Percival Graves is a very powerful wizard himself. Maybe he had a sister who was killed, and her son was presumed dead, along with his parents? Maybe that could be the reason he became an auror?_

 _Or is making Credence Grave's nephew too much of a 'soap opera' plotline? After all, not everyone has to be linked to everyone else…_

 _I haven't decided, yet, but would love to hear any opinions you have._

 _I wanted to try and hint a few things regarding Dumbledore in this chapter, too. He is not the wise old professor we are familiar with, and while he has proven to be rather manipulative as an older man, it is more of a slytherin trait (I wonder if he was sorted in the correct house, actually) and I believe he uses that manipulation, when he's older, to generally get information and favours from others without having to make himself vulnerable._

 _I think it may actually be a more 'learned' technique, and so, regarding 'Young Dumbledore' I think we may see a more direct, or even darker, side to him._

 _J.K. Rowling has said that Dumbledore was possibly in love with Grindlewald, and it seems clear his sister, Ariana, was likely an obscurial. So, I feel Dumbledore would find Credence highly fascinating, and he may even confess his story to him, seeing a possible chance at forgiveness or redemption._

 _Dumbledore's character is still a little uncertain, as I'm trying to figure out his mindset at this point in his life, but still, I think those key past experiences, with Grindlewald and Ariana, are going to play a big part in a lot of what Dumbledore does._

 _And, of course, I had to have Queenie and Tina spend time together before the wedding- that's what sisters are for!_

 _However, Tina is meant to be working, but I figured, Graves, while being a highly professional man, can still see the importance of celebrating the wedding of your only living relative, so I felt he would give Tina the time off._

 _However, being the 1920s, I imagine that, even though the wizarding community appears more socially advanced in terms of women's rights (having a female president, and all), Tina would still be looked down on by her colleagues for taking the time off for a wedding, despite her boss being the one to offer._

 _I could just imagine that, growing up, Tina would feel as if she had to 'take care' of her sister, and so feel more like a mother, than anything else. Katherine Waterson said she didn't feel Tina attracted a lot of male attention, and as a teenager, I can imagine Tina resenting her sister's looks. But, with Queenie's ability, I'm sure she could shoot down any idiot who just saw her as a trophy._

 _Now that they've grown up, I imagine the girls are more matter-of-fact about it all, and so can have a bit of banter about it._

 _Okay, enough of my ramblings for this chapter, we have a wedding to prepare for._

 _Please review!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's note: Hello everybody! This was a chapter I had a bit of trouble writing. I hope you enjoy it!_

~..~..~..~..

Queenie woke up slowly, her mind reluctant to wake from the wonderful dream she'd been having. She and Jacob were together, in their little apartment above their bakery, and she was cooking dinner while he taught their daughter how to make pastries.

Yes, it was a purely domestic scene, and as usual, not very glamourous. But Queenie's heart had felt so full of love, she couldn't imagine anything more perfect.

As wakefulness finally brought her to reality, her eyes snapped open.

It was her wedding day.

Her dream was no longer a dream. Now, it could become a true reality.

Queenie couldn't help it, she let out a giggle of pure delight as she sat up in bed, just as her sister entered the room, carrying two mugs of steaming liquid.

Cocoa, she noted from her sister's mind.

"Do I hear giggling?" Tina asked in amusement as she passed her sister a cup.

"Yes, I confess to giggling," Queenie admitted proudly. "And I confess to feeling happier than I've ever felt in my whole life!"

"Good, so you should be," Tina smiled. Queenie's joy was infectious.

"Now, let's get you ready for the altar."

~..~..~..~..

Credence swallowed as he regarded the new suit Queenie had got him for Christmas. It was a dark, navy blue, a colour that Credence had never been allowed to wear before.

Even though he'd had his new clothes for a couple of days now, he had still worn his old ones. Credence had told himself it was just force of habit, but as he regarded his new suit hanging innocently on the bedroom door, where he'd hung it up last night, Credence felt a sudden surge of trepidation.

But why? It was Jacob's wedding day, not his.

Reaching out, Credence ran his fingers slowly along the navy-blue fabric. It was well made, he noted. Not expensive, but still, far finer than anything he'd been allowed to wear before.

' _Sinful_ ' a voice hissed in his mind, and he mentally felt the sting of the belt buckle on his hand. Reflexively, he jerked his hand back.

"Ma," he whispered fearfully.

'Anything other than black, white or grey, will encourage the sin of pride,' he reminded himself.

"Credence?"

Credence turned to the suitcase lying on the floor as Newt carefully climbed out and into Jacob's small spare room, already dressed in an expensive blue suit, a few shades lighter than the one Credence owned.

"Come along, Credence," Newt ushered him as he straightened his own jacket. "We need to be off to the town hall soon."

"I…" Credence stammered, awkwardly, his gaze falling back onto his suit.

"What's wrong?" Newt asked.

Credence swallowed.

Newt wouldn't laugh, he told himself, taking a breath.

"Ma always said," he spoke slowly, "that wearing any colour other than plain black, grey or white would encourage the sin of pride. So," the young man swallowed nervously, avoiding Newt's eyes, feeling too embarrassed to finish.

"You've never worn colours before," Newt finished slowly and Credence nodded.

"Well," Newt commented after a pause, "this should be a new experience for you, then."

Credence continued to stand frozen, hunching his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller.

"Ma followed me here," he whispered, turning his hand over, as if expecting the belt.

"Credence, you've been doing so well," Newt reminded him. "And the only way your mother could have followed you here, is if you let her."

Credence lowered his head, trying to shrink further, as if guilty.

"Credence," Newt tried again. "Do you think Queenie is a prideful person? Arrogant? Self-centred?"

"No," Credence's head snapped up in shock at the question. "She one of the kindest people I've ever met."

"And have you ever seen her wear plain black, white or grey?" Newt prompted.

"No," the young man admitted, for the woman was usually in some shade of pink. Credence then studied Newt, who also wore bright colours, making him stand out from the crowd, and yet he was one of the humblest men Credence had ever known.

"Tell you what," Newt suggested. "I'm going to check on Jacob. If you don't feel up to it, you can always wear your old black suit, alright?" His voice wasn't judgmental, just supportive.

"Alright," Credence nodded.

"Nothing to worry about," Newt assured him before leaving to check on the groom.

Reaching out, Credence stroked the sleeve of his new suit once more, snatching his hand back as he mentally felt the sting of the belt on his hand.

' _Sinful_.' The voice in his head hissed again.

'No, Ma,' he told the voice in his head, closing his eyes tightly. 'You can't tell me what to do anymore.'

Queenie had bought him this suit so he could wear it to her wedding, he reminded himself.

She was one of the kindest people he knew…

Colour had nothing to do with pride, he realised. In fact, Credence cast his mind over the people he knew. Those who actually wore colours, such as Queenie, Tina, Newt, Willow and Dumbledore, appeared to be kinder than those who didn't, such as his Ma, Grindlewald, or Senator Shaw.

Taking a deep breath, as if to steel himself, he carefully took the suit off the hanger.

~..~..~..~..

Newt knocked on his friend's bedroom door.

"Are you ready, Jacob?"

He opened the door gingerly to see the baker fiddling nervously with his tie, struggling to get it sitting properly.

"Newt," Jacob said, his voice cracking slightly, "I think I'm going to have a heart attack."

"It's your wedding day," Newt stepped forward reassuringly, "it's natural to be nervous."

"I'm not _nervous_ ," Jacob insisted. It wasn't a lie, for he was so much more than that.

"You're not going to stand Queenie up, are you?" Newt raised his eyebrows.

Jacob's head shot up indignantly, "No!"

"Do you love her?" Newt asked.

"With everything I have," Jacob told him.

"Then what are you worried about?" Newt asked his friend. "You've got absolutely nothing to worry about."

Raising his wand, Newt used magic to straighten Jacob's tie so it sat perfectly.

"Wish I could do that," Jacob muttered in envy.

"Now come on," Newt gestured to the door. "As your Best Man, it's my job to get you to the altar in one piece," he told him. "You don't want to let your bride down, now do you?"

"My bride," Jacob repeated in a whisper, a smile tugging at his mouth. "Is it possible to be both excited and terrified by something?"

Newt smiled.

"Yes," he told him, "but, I believe, the excitement normally wins out."

~..~..~..~..

Mr Graves had just got himself his first coffee of the morning when he heard someone in the Leaky Cauldron's dining room whistle appreciatively.

Looking around, he couldn't spy the culprit, but he could see the cause, for Queenie and Tina had just descended the stairs.

Queenie's dress was cream and white, with simple lace straps, giving an almost Grecian style to the dress that was both feminine and goddess-like. Her curls were tight against her head thanks to an elegant head band, and a small string of pearls graced her neck. Her make-up was light, giving her skin and eyes an almost luminous quality.

Auror Goldstein, if Graves was honest with himself, was more surprising. For while her sister was continually dressing in beautiful, feminine, styles, Auror Goldstein was often more practical. So, to see her in the stunning turquoise and silver dress she wore for the occasion, complete with striking red-painted lips, Graves barely recognised her.

"Good morning ladies," Graves stood up to greet them. "You two look as if you're off to a wedding."

"Yes, we are," Queenie couldn't stop smiling, and her joy was so great that even Graves began to smile. "Very observant, Mr Graves."

"Oh, I'm not Head of my Department for nothing," Graves answered smoothly.

"Isn't my sister the picture of a beautiful bride, Sir?" Tina said proudly, linking her arm with Queenie's.

"Indeed, she is," Graves bowed to the bride graciously. "And you look lovely yourself, Auror Goldstein. Though I hope you'll change before returning to work this afternoon," he continued lightly.

"Oh, don't worry, Sir," Tina assured him. "I'll be back to my plain old self in no time."

"I dunno, Goldstein," someone called out. "Maybe if you dressed like that more often-"

"You sure you want to finish that sentence Harcourt?" Graves cut him off, barely even turning his head.

Silence was his only answer.

"Wise move," Graves said calmly before turning back to the women.

"I hope the morning goes well, ladies," he told them. "And congratulations, again, Miss Goldstein," Graves kissed Queenie's hand elegantly.

"Thank you, Sir," Queenie curtsied delightedly before taking up her sister's hand and leading the way out the door.

"I expect you at the Ministry promptly, this afternoon, Auror Goldstein," Graves reminded her.

"Yes, Sir," Tina assured the man before leaving with her sister.

Graves turned to cast his eyes over those of his team that were in the dining room, until he found Auror Harcourt.

"Was it you who whistled, as well, Harcourt?" He asked, no longer smiling.

"No, that was Berenson," Harcourt pointed to the man seated at the next table.

"Hey," Berenson objected. "Throw me into the dragon's den why don't you?"

"Both of you," Graves's voice was firm, "will follow me. We need to have a talk about the kind of conduct I expect in my team."

~..~..~..~..

Time seemed to running strangely for Jacob that day.

It seemed to only take an instant between getting himself ready at his apartment, and now, standing outside the Town Hall, Newt and Credence beside him, as he waited for the ladies to arrive.

And now the minutes were passing like centuries…

Newt had decided not to apparate them, feeling the walk to the town hall would be more beneficial in helping Jacob prepare himself. However, as the three men arrived first, Newt realised the waiting was doing nothing for his friend's nerves.

"Just keep breathing," Newt advised him quietly. "You've got nothing to worry about."

It was still a good idea to walk here, Newt considered, as Jacob forced himself to take a deep, slow, breath. Otherwise, he reasoned, they'd have been waiting even longer.

"Here they come," Credence pointed, and Jacob and Newt turned to see the women making their way towards them though the crowd.

Jacob felt himself struggling to breathe again as Queenie approached. In her white dress, she seemed like an angel who was suddenly walking amongst the mortals on London's streets.

"Oh, Jacob, honey," Queenie sighed happily, giving her husband-to-be a radiant smile. "You look so handsome."

Jacob couldn't speak, but thankfully, he didn't need to, with Queenie.

"You are so sweet," Queenie gushed, kissing him softly, hearing his admiration in his mind.

"You look lovely, Queenie," Newt told her politely, and the woman gave a curtsy in gratitude of the compliment.

Newt's eyes, however, were subtly on Tina.

And if Newt had thought that, having seen her in the turquoise dress previously, at Christmas, it meant he was prepared for the effect, he had been sorely mistaken.

"Good morning, Miss Goldstein," Newt stammered, as he once more clasped his hands behind his back, having handed his case to Credence to hold, for the duration of the ceremony.

"Good morning, Mr Scamander," Tina greeted warmly. "I see you decided to wear the blue suit."

"I had it on good authority that I should," Newt smiled shyly.

"I'm glad you did," Tina smiled in return before her eyes landed on Credence.

"Oh, Credence, don't you look dapper," she complimented, before moving forward to straighten his tie like a fussy aunt, causing a blush to bloom across the young man's cheeks.

"That's the suit we got him for Christmas," Queenie smiled happily, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes fondly, thinking she should offer to cut it for him, soon. "Doesn't he look handsome, Teenie?"

"He does," Tina nodded, causing Credence's blush to deepen.

A small van pulled up at the town hall and Credence looked up to see Mr Branch, from the flower shop, climb out of the driver's seat.

"Flowers for Queenie Goldstein, soon to be Queenie Kowalski," he announced with a smile, recognising Jacob.

"Oh, Jacob," Queenie gushed as Mr Branch brought forward her bouquet full of pink and white flowers, that Jacob had picked out for her.

"Thank you so much," Queenie smiled gratefully as she claimed her gift.

"Congratulations to you both," Mr Branch told them with a smile, doing a slight double take as he finally recognised Credence.

"You're Mr Barebone, yes?" He queried, and Credence nodded in surprise.

"Eliza and Willow told me about you." Mr Branch gave him a measured look. "My wife and I never had children, so I regard the girls in my shop as my own daughters," he said firmly. "I hope you treat Willow as a lady should be, tonight."

"Credence has a date?" Queenie asked before clapping her hands in delight. "Oh, I'm so happy!" She exclaimed. "Love is everywhere!"

"Time to go in," Newt prompted gently, noticing the time.

"Have a wonderful day," Mr Branch said, smiling in farewell, before glancing at Credence as he headed back to the van, to continue with the morning deliveries.

"Alright," Jacob readied himself as he offered his arm to Queenie, before leading the way into the Town Hall.

"Are you ready, my wife-to be?" Jacob asked, his nerves causing his voice to shake slightly.

"Absolutely," Queenie smiled.

~..~..~..~..

Their group had to wait only a few minutes before it was their turn, and soon, Jacob and Queenie stood before the Minister, Newt and Credence standing to Jacob's right, and Tina on Queenie's left.

"Welcome everyone," The minister, a pleasant, round-faced man in his late forties, began "we are here today to witness and celebrate the marriage of Jacob Kowalski and Queenie Goldstein. If there is anyone here who think that these two should _not_ be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Jacob met Queenie's eyes as there was silence in the hall.

It was here that Tina had her first pang of worry. The other aurors knew Queenie was marrying a no-maj. And even though the wedding was being held in the no-maj Town Hall, would anyone come to object the union?

Tina was glad she'd brought her wand, just in case.

But still, the silence dragged on.

"Very well," the Minister smiled, "let us continue."

"Oh, good," Tina sighed in relief, not realising she'd spoken out loud until laughter rippled from the other couples who sat in the hall, waiting their turn.

Covering her mouth guiltily, Tina caught her sister's eye in a wordless apology, which she answered with a reassuring smile.

"May we have the rings?"

Newt stepped forward carefully, passing over the box.

"Jacob Kowalski," The Minister began, "do you promise to love and cherish this woman, and be true to her alone, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Jacob said softly, not taking his eyes of his bride for a moment as he slid the simple gold band onto her finger, where it would remain forever.

"And do you, Queenie Goldstein," the Minister continued, "promise to love and cherish this man, and be true to him alone, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Queenie's smile was radiant as she slid the gold ring onto Jacob's finger, marking him as her husband.

"Then, by the power vested in me," the Minister smiled, "I pronounce you, Husband and Wife."

Jacob's nerves fell away until he couldn't stop smiling.

"You may kiss your bride," the Minister told him.

As they kissed, Jacob relished the fact that he was now not only kissing Queenie, the woman he loved…

But his new wife.

~..~..~..~..

They returned to the Leaky Cauldron, to have a quick celebration, before Queenie had to pack her bag to leave the hotel and move into the apartment. Everyone had changed out of their glad rags, but Tina felt it was her duty, as Maid of honour, to ensure everyone gathered one last time to celebrate the happy couple in lieu of a proper reception, and so, despite the early hour, she ordered everyone a single round of drinks.

"Speech!" Queenie cheered.

Tina sighed, gathering her nerve as she stood up. She had never been very good at this sort of thing, but, as Queenie's only family, she had to go through with it.

"Queenie," she began hesitantly, "I wish Ma and Pop could have been here today, to see their little girl get married to the man she loves. And I know, they are looking down right now, seeing you so happy, and being as happy for you as I am. Uh…" she had to take a breath as she suddenly felt her emotions well up.

"it's okay, Teenie," Queenie spoke up, wiping her own eyes.

"Jacob," Tina continued, forcing her voice to keep steady. "I have looked after my little sister her whole life. For the longest time, it's just been me and her, and I'm so glad to have you join our little family. I am entrusting my little sister, the most precious thing in the world to me, into your care, now." She swallowed. "And knowing what a kind soul you are, Jacob, I'm sure you will treasure her as much as I have."

"I promise, Tina," Jacob swore sincerely, placing a hand over his heart in emphasis.

"To Mr and Mrs Kowalski!" Tina toasted and the group raised their glasses to toast the happy couple.

"That was beautiful, Tina!" Queenie gushed, wrapping her sister in a hug.

Once the glasses were empty, it was time to disperse. Queenie had to get ready to move into the apartment, before she and Jacob were to go to the Ministry to finalise Jacob's exemption from the International Statute of Secrecy. Tina had to go into the Ministry to re-join her team and get briefed on what has transpired with the French Delegation and any Grindlewald sightings in France, and Newt had to visit his publisher regarding his first book promotion the following day.

"Would you care to join me, Credence?" He asked him.

"Yes, thank you," Credence nodded. He had originally thought to go back to Hogwarts, but, as he was meeting Willow that evening, it would surely be easier to remain in London until the time came.

"And I'd be happy to take you back to Hogwarts for the last couple of days of the Christmas break, later." Newt added.

"He has a date with Willow tonight," Jacob reminded Newt quickly.

"Right," Newt nodded pensively. "So, how about you come to my flat afterward, and I can apparate you to Hogwarts then?" He suggested

"Alright," Credence agreed.

"Will I see you at my book promotion tomorrow evening, Tina?" Newt queried hopefully, as the woman made to leave. "It'll be in Diagon Alley."

"Of course, Newt," Tina nodded. "I wouldn't miss it."

"We'll be there too," Queenie spoke up.

"Oh, you're newly-weds," Newt waved them off. "I'd understand completely if-"

"We're coming, pal," Jacob's voice was firm. "We helped you catch all your creatures in New York, we are going to be there, to help you promote the book you wrote about them."

"Thank you," he told them.

"Me too?" Credence asked hopefully.

"Of course, Credence," Newt told him, and the younger man smiled in relief.

How had he been so fortunate to have gained such true friends? He wondered.

"You're a true friend yourself, that's how," Queenie told him, giving him a hug.

~..~..~..~..

Tina arrived in the Auror department of the Ministry of Magic just as twelve o'clock struck, with a sigh of relief, before making her way to the offices at the back.

Walking through the maze of desks, Tina noticed the cubicles were rather empty. 'Well it is still the holidays,' she told herself. Nevertheless, she quickened her pace.

Approaching Auror Scamander's office, Tina noticed a large group of people, those of both her team and the British, were just exiting in a rush, and suddenly had the feeling something important was happening.

"Ah, Auror Goldstein," Graves greeted cordially, if a little tense, as he checked his pocket watch. "You're right on time."

"What did I miss?" Tina asked as aurors continued to push past her out the door.

"Possible Grindlewald attack in a French Wizarding hospital," Theseus Scamander explained quickly.

"The hospital?" Tina repeated.

"It appears," a middle-aged gentleman, sporting a small beard, spoke up from where he stood at the table, "that _Monsieur_ Grindlewald is searching for another obscurial, after his first attempt failed in New York."

"Auror Goldstein, this is Deputy Head Auror Leon Cousteau, of the French Ministry," Graves introduced his auror, who nodded respectfully as Auror Cousteau nodded curtly in return. "And these are his colleagues," Graves added, gesturing to two equally well-dressed gentlemen who had been off to the side, observing the scene, "Auror Phillippe DuBois-"

" _Enchante_ ," the man bowed politely to Tina.

"and Auror Pierre Bovary," Graves finished.

"A pleasure to meet you, _mademoiselle_ ," the man bowed, his attempt at English commendable, as his thick French accent indicated that, unlike Auror Cousteau, he was unfamiliar with the language.

"They arrived yesterday afternoon," Graves explained, "you really didn't miss much," he added aside to her, quietly.

"Auror Goldstein," Tina introduced herself to the newcomers before turning back to her boss. "What happened at the hospital?" She queried.

"I was going to get Bennet to brief you, but, seeing as you're here," Graves considered, leading her over to the table, where a map of Paris lay.

"This is what we know so far," Graves began, "it was discovered yesterday, that someone had been accessing the records of the wizarding hospitals throughout France."

"Ordinarily, we would not consider this strange, but not overly concerning," Auror Cousteu took over. "However, when our department was reminded of the obscurus that was discovered in New York, and how Grindlewald had been trying to protect it, and failed… We assumed then, he would naturally try to find another."

"You think he's trying to find them in the hospitals?" Tina queried.

"We don't think," Auror Cousteau answered firmly. "We know." Gesturing to the map, he indicated the location of the wizarding hospital in Paris, which was lit up with red lights.

"Earlier today," Auror Cousteau began sombrely, "A large section of the hospital was destroyed, and several staff were killed."

Tina took in a slow breath.

"There was an obscurial being kept in the hospital, wasn't there?" She spoke up. "Grindlewald found them. Probably the staff tried to stop him," she continued thoughtfully. "The obscurial couldn't handle it, and so, the obscurus attacked."

Auror Cousteau raised his eyebrows, glancing at Graves, who gave a quick smirk.

" _Precisement_ , Auror Goldstein," the French Auror said. "The marks on the dead were the same as those on Senator Shaw in New York. Thankfully, the obscurial was killed, though, unfortunately, Grindlewald escaped. Our Head Auror, Delacroix is there now."

"With all due respect, Auror Cousteau," Tina spoke up quietly, "I hardly think the death of a child is anything to be thankful for."

"Grindlewald failed to get his hands on a living weapon," Cousteau countered. "Why the hospital allowed such a danger to the public to be kept on the grounds is beyond my understanding." The man frowned as he studied the red lights blinking over the location of the hospital. "I will be speaking to our Minister about this."

Tina had to grind her teeth together as she reminded herself she could not argue with a foreign Deputy Head Auror regarding the laws and regulations in his home country.

"Did any one actually see Grindlewald?" Tina asked instead, keeping her voice as measured as possible.

"No, though that doesn't mean much," Graves admitted drily. "He's already proven how good he is at disguising himself."

"Everyone at the scene, in the ward itself, died when the obscurus attacked," Auror Scamander added. "It was actually due to the obscurus attacking, that the wards around the room broke, destroying that section of the hospital, and making the obscurial's presence there, known."

"It was a high security ward," Auror Cousteau informed them gravely. "The kind of power required to break those wards…"

"Perhaps it was Grindlewald himself who destroyed it," Auror Scamander mused, "trying to get the obscurial out quickly, when they started to lose control?"

"We will not know for certain until Head Auror Delacroix has completed the investigation," Cousteau reminded him.

"And what about the obscurial?" Tina queried. "Has their family been notified that their child has died?"

Auror Cousteau gave her a steely look.

"How do you think the obscurial got sent to the hospital in the first place?" He asked. "The obscurial killed his family. Records say, he was sent to the hospital, as the court ruled a prison was no place for a six-year-old boy."

"He was only six?" Tina asked in shock.

"Nine," Cousteau corrected. "He'd been in the hospital for three years."

'So young,' Tina thought, fighting to keep her composure as the French Deputy was still regarding her critically and she was determined to prove her professionalism.

"Course of action?" She queried, knowing her job was simply to ask for orders, at this stage.

"I've sent an owl to Madame Piquery," Graves informed her. "We'll probably be ordered to leave when she gets back to me."

"Leave?" Tina echoed and Graves nodded seriously.

"Get ready to pack your bags again, Auror Goldstein," he told her. "You may be seeing in the New Year in Paris."

~..~..~..~..

That evening, Newt dutifully escorted Credence through the city to the place he'd be meeting Willow for their night out.

"Okay, this is Regent street," Newt informed Credence, having escorted him from his flat so he'd be able to find his way back. "The cinema is just up there, look," he pointed to where lights were flashing on the side of a building, "you can even see it from here."

"Thank you," Credence said gratefully, though Newt could hear a definite tremor in the young man's voice.

He could sympathise. A first date was anxiety-inducing for the average person, so he could only imagine how someone like Credence would be viewing the situation.

Didn't have to imagine too much, though, as Newt, preferring the company of his creatures to most people, had made every effort to avoid dating most of his life.

Leta had been the closest person he'd come to really 'dating', although, come to think of it, they never did actually go on an official 'date.'

He'd never taken her to dinner, they just ate together in the Great Hall.

Although, when you're at school, he considered, it was very different to when you were an adult.

Considering this, Leta's image in Newt's mind was suddenly replaced by Tina's, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

' _What if I asked Tina on a date?_ ' He wondered. " _Would she say 'yes'_?

' _Stop it, Newt_ ,' he told himself sternly.

"Newt," Credence still hadn't moved from his spot. "What- what am I actually supposed to do?"

"Sorry?" Newt asked.

"On a date," Credence asked, finally getting the chance, and the courage, to ask the question that had been nagging at him all day. " _What am I supposed to do_?"

Newt sighed.

"I'm far from what anyone would call an authority on these matters, Credence," he admitted, but seeing the look in the younger man's eyes made Newt feel he should try to say _something_ , to give him a guideline on dating etiquette.

"Make sure you compliment how she looks," Newt suggested, scratching his head nervously. "That shouldn't be too difficult for you. Uh," he stammered as Credence was giving him his full attention, absorbing every word.

"Try to be a gentleman," he continued hesitantly. "Open the door for her, and- do you have any muggle money?"

Credence nodded, placing a hand over his jacket pocket.

"Good, it's often the man who pays," Newt told him. "Even if the woman insists on paying her share, some do," he informed with a smile, "and a gentleman should at least offer."

"Alright," Credence nodded, listening attentively, and Newt realised Credence must be highly inexperienced if he was taking his advice so keenly.

"Last, and most important thing," Newt finished, "would be to relax, and listen to her. You won't enjoy yourself if you're busy worrying, and-"

"Worrying makes you suffer twice?" Credence spoke up, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

"Exactly," Newt nodded before pointing along the street.

"Now, off you go." He encouraged. "Best you get there before she does."

~..~..~..~..

Jacob's heart was pounding in his chest.

After hours of form-filling and waiting at the Ministry, he had finally gained his full exemption from the International Statute of Secrecy, meaning he was, officially, a part of the wizarding world.

Now, he was opening the door to the bakery and apartment, welcoming his new wife home.

Queenie had been at their bakery and apartment earlier that day, of course, to unpack her bags, but now, with only the moonlight illuminating the room, he suddenly felt his nerves from earlier, returning with a vengeance.

His wife led him through their bakery by the hand, and up the stairs to their apartment. As the apartment door closed behind them, Queenie used her wand to light the room before coyly removing her coat.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are, today?" Jacob asked softly as Queenie turned to hang her coat on the peg by the apartment door.

"Yes," she smiled as she met his eyes.

Approaching his wife slowly, Jacob reached out to gently run his fingers through her blond curls.

This woman was his wife, he had to remind himself. How could he have ever hoped to be so lucky?

Queenie smiled, hearing the sincere adoration in her new husband's thoughts.

"I think I'm pretty lucky to have a man like you, Jacob," she told him before kissing his lips softly.

Gingerly, Jacob's fingers traced the elegant curve of her neck until he reached her shoulder.

Carefully, shyly, Jacob placed a soft kiss on the spot where his fingers rested, on the nape of her neck, and was rewarded as a soft gasp escaped Queenie's lips.

Reaching up, Queenie stroked her husband's face, her fingers tracing his forehead, his jaw, his lips…

"Jacob?" Queenie's eyes showed concern as she gazed into his face. "Why are you shaking?"

' _Because I'm terrified,'_ he thought instantly, wincing in chagrin, knowing she'd hear him. However, Queenie simply kissed him gently, trying to reassure him.

"I'm kinda nervous, too," Queenie admitted a little shakily. "But I love you, Jacob."

"I love you, so much, Queenie," Jacob whispered reverently. "I…I'm just afraid of disappointing you," he confessed slowly.

Queenie's face softened, and she kissed him tenderly.

"I don't think you'll disappoint me at all," she told him surely as their lips parted.

Possibly hearing the confusion in her Love's mind, Queenie elaborated.

"The kiss you gave me?" Queenie's fingers reached up to stroke the base of her neck, and Jacob's eyes couldn't help but follow her movements. "It started a fire," she whispered.

Jacob swallowed.

"And if you can do that with a kiss…" Queenie's lips claimed her husband's before trailing small kisses across his jaw.

"Then I don't think you could ever disappoint me, Honey."

Gently, Jacob cupped Queenie's face in his hands. This was the woman who loved him. Who had broken the law to be with him. Who had married him.

And he was determined to be worthy of her.

Throwing his fears out the window, Jacob claimed his wife's lips with his own…

~..~..~..~..

Credence stood nervously outside the theatre. He'd never been on a date before. Girls never found him interesting, and there was a reason he could go through New York, practically invisible.

Besides, he spent most of his time handing out leaflets for his mother, and that had never been very conducive to getting a girl's attention.

What girl would notice him anyway?

'Willow did,' a voice in his head reminded him, and he felt his heartrate increase.

"Credence?"

Turning, Credence saw Willow approaching him, wearing her long black coat to keep out the cold, though her long hair was now tied in an elaborate braid and twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. And, Credence noticed, she was actually wearing make-up. Her eyes were highlighted so that Credence was startled to realise they were a pale green, whereas her lips had been painted a dusky rose-pink.

Credence swallowed, trying not to stare.

"Good evening, Willow," he greeted, clearing his throat nervously. "You look lovely."

"Thank you," Willow smiled as she took in his appearance. "You look rather dapper yourself."

Credence ducked his head, trying to hide his blush as he nervously ran his fingers over the fabric of his new suit jacket.

"This was a Christmas present," he explained, unable to think of anything better to say.

"Well, they have excellent taste," Willow told him surely, and it was only then that Credence realised they were one member short.

"Where's Miss Musgrove?" Credence asked, and Willow appeared to be fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Eliza says she's sick," Willow informed him, though her tone appeared to be sceptical. "She says she wishes us a pleasant evening."

"I'm sorry to hear she'd not well," Credence said politely. "I hope she recovers soon."

"Oh, I'm sure she will," Willow said drily, trying to hide a smile. "Thank you, Credence."

She led him to the counter and ordered their tickets, though as she reached for her bag, Credence remembered Newt's words.

"I'll pay for them," he offered, taking out the English pound notes he carried.

"Are you sure?" Willow asked as, the last she'd heard, he still hadn't found any paid work, yet she didn't want to push the matter and risk embarrassing him.

Credence nodded, handing over the money to the teller. He didn't have much, though, thankfully, he hadn't needed to spend much during his time in England so far, and with Jacob's bakery starting soon, he would soon have paid work.

"Thank you," Willow smiled gratefully, which was enough to make Credence blush again.

As they entered the theatre a few minutes later, Willow removed her coat to reveal the blue dress she wore underneath. The dress itself was simple, but elegant, rather like the dresses Queenie usually wore. The fabric clung to her figure and the asymmetric hemline revealed a flash of Willow's legs as she sat down.

"What is it?" Willow asked, and it took Credence a few moments to realise he'd been staring.

"Sorry," he apologised, before mentally shaking himself. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing," Willow replied, smiling slightly. "Have a seat."

' _Stop it, Credence_ ,' he admonished himself as he sat down, trying to avoid looking at the woman beside him. ' _This is not 'being a gentleman'_.'

' _Sinful_ ,' the voice at the back of his mind hissed. And Credence forced himself to breathe deeply as he felt the obscurus latching onto his nerves, trying to find an outlet.

' _Go away…'_ He told the monster in his chest.

"So, welcome to your first cinema experience," Willow whispered as others took their seats around them. "What do you know about it?"

"Not much," Credence admitted, regaining control. "I've always had the impression it was like watching a play, just on a screen, instead of a stage?"

"A logical assumption," Willow granted, "but it is so much more than that. Admittedly, there's no sound, so you can't hear the dialogue, but it's written on the screen. As such, there's a great focus on the musical score accompaniment and the physicality of the actors; their movements and their facial expressions. They're what tell the story. Then there are the visuals," she continued, her enthusiasm for the art showing clearly, "the pictures themselves. Because it's on film, not a stage, they can record the scene in the actual environment it's set in. So," she concluded excitedly, "you can actually see the rain, or be right in the middle of a sword fight."

"And what is this film called?" Credence asked.

"'The Black Pirate,'" Willow informed him. "Eliza saw it with another friend of hers last week, but I couldn't make it," she explained. "So, she was going to see it with me, today. It's an action movie, starring Douglas Fairbanks, Eliza's favourite American actor."

"An action movie?" Credence echoed.

"And it's in colour!" Willow gushed.

Before Credence could comment, the lights began to dim in the theatre.

"It's starting," Willow told him. "They normally play a short cartoon before the film," she explained in a whisper.

Sure enough, the screen began to flicker as music began, filling the room, causing Credence to jump slightly in surprise.

"Everything alright?" Willow whispered, leaning closer in concern.

"I didn't expect it to be so loud," he admitted.

"It has to be, so everyone can hear," she whispered, her lips close to his ear so as to be heard through the noise. "Just sit back and enjoy the show."

~..~..~..~..

"So, what did you think?" Willow asked eagerly as they exited the theatre.

"It looked so real," Credence answered slowly.

"That was the first time I'd seen a movie in colour," Willow admitted. "And yes, the colour made all the difference. And the music!"

Credence studied Willow, a smile pulling at him mouth at her enthusiasm.

"You like movies, don't you?"

"I like stories," Willow clarified. "And movies are a new way to tell stories."

"What's your favourite thing about them?" Credence asked curiously as they began to make their way along the street."

Willow thoughtful for a moment, considering. "The characters," she answered carefully. "If your audience can't relate to your characters, there's no connection. Take the Duke, who became 'The Black Pirate' for example: Did you hear the audience cheering for him, at the end?"

"That was a cunning thing the Duke, did," Credence spoke up. "Joining the pirates to get revenge on his father's death. How is revenge a good thing?"

"But he got his revenge, not by killing anyone," Willow countered, "but by taking control and using that power to protect the innocents on the ship they'd captured, as well as the noblewoman they'd held for ransom, before encouraging the other pirates to rise against the Pirate Lieutenant. I think," she continued pensively, "that, while most people think revenge is simply 'killing the other guy,' it's actually not as 'black and white' as that. It's making someone pay for a crime, when no other avenue will allow it. There's more than one way to get a job done," Willow granted, "and the Duke was able to best his enemy whilst keeping his honour. Stories can sometimes allow us an outlet to imagine we can do, have or be things that, in reality, we can't do, have or be," she summed up.

Glancing up at Credence, she took stock of his expression as he stared at her, before averting her gaze awkwardly.

"But, that's just my opinion though," she said breathlessly, swallowing. "Sorry, I went a bit deep there."

"No, don't be sorry," Credence told her. "I've never hear anyone speak like that. My whole life, all I've heard is: 'if you stray from the path, you will go straight to Hell.'"

Willow stopped walking to meet his gaze.

"No offence, Credence," she said slowly, "but your childhood sounds rather awful."

Credence considered before nodding.

"Yes," he admitted. "But my sisters helped."

"I'm sorry," Willow said quietly in sympathy. "Tell me about your sisters," she encouraged, resuming the walk. "Are they back in New York?"

"Yes," Credence answered slowly, not wanting to mention one was dead, and the other in an orphanage. For, most likely, Willow would ask what happened, and then, what would he say?

"Okay," Willow nodded in encouragement. "Anything else? Names? Ages? Anecdotes?"

"Oh," Credence realised, ducking his head. He really wasn't good at this.

"Chastity and Modesty," he answered. "Chasity's a little younger than me, and Modesty's the youngest, at ten." He became quiet as he tried to think of a story about them. "All of us were adopted, though Modesty and I were quite close. I miss Modesty," he admitted.

"You may see her again," Willow encouraged, linking her arm with his. "And you can always write to her."

Credence's eyes widened.

"You're right," he told her slowly. "I can write to her." He'd never actually considered being able to write to his little sister. He could tell her he was getting control of his magic, and explain how she didn't have to be afraid of him anymore…

"I might do that," he mumbled, thinking.

As they turned onto Willow's street, it began to snow lightly, and Willow giggled as she tried to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

"Didn't you and your sisters do this?" She asked Credence, who stared at her, uncomprehendingly.

"No," he admitted. So, Willow tugged on his hand, encouraging him to join in.

Eventually, they reached her flat door, near the jewellery shop, and Credence felt himself tense.

What was he supposed to do, now? He wondered, wishing he'd asked Newt the appropriate way to end a date. Glancing at Willow, Credence realised he may just have to take his cue from her.

"I hope you enjoyed your first film experience, Credence," Willow said hopefully.

"Yes, thank you," Credence nodded. "I'm getting a lot of 'firsts' here, in England, actually."

"Really?" she queried. "Like what?"

"Well," Credence stammered. "First film, first friends, first… date." Maybe, he supposed if he told her, she'd forgive any mistakes he'd unknowingly made.

Or laugh at him, he realised, too late.

But he needn't have worried, for Willow's bemused expression softened.

"This was your first ever date?" She asked and Credence nodded.

"That's adorable," she smiled. "I am honoured," she told him, placing a hand on her heart. "And, a little surprised," she admitted.

"Surprised?" Credence echoed and Willow raised an eyebrow.

"You do remember a drunk Eliza gushing over how good looking you were the other evening?" She prompted, giving a shrug as Credence blushed.

"One would think a girl would have caught your attention by now, is all," she explained.

"Just you," Credence confessed softly, and this time, it was Willow who blushed.

"Wow," she whispered, and Credence began to wonder if he'd made a mistake, before she smiled.

"I think that's one of the sweetest things I've heard," she told him. It was then that Credence noticed her shivering, and the snow began to fall more thickly.

"Goodnight, Credence," Willow said quickly, noticing the snow falling harder. "I'd better let you go now, or else you'd freeze before getting home."

"I'll be alright," He protested, not wanting to leave her yet.

Smiling, Willow reached up and planted a small kiss on his cheek. She was so short, it was lucky she was standing on the doorstep.

"Goodnight, Credence," she told him, turning to unlock the door and enter the flat.

"Good night, Willow," he whispered, so quietly, he didn't think she heard him as the door shut behind her.

Credence barely registered the snow falling around him as he stood outside Willow's flat. Slowly, he raised a hand to his cheek, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Turning, he made his way down the street, heading back to Newt's flat.

He may not be an expert, but, Credence thought, as first dates go, he felt that went rather well.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _Remember Credence telling August that he'd never worn colours before? I thought he may have to address that as he got ready for the wedding, and Newt, being the non-judgemental person he is, would be gently encouraging Credence to make his own choice, reminding him of the people he knew._

 _I wanted Queenie's dress to be simple- she'd not wealthy, after all, but still very beautiful I googled some 1920s wedding dresses, and saw this beautiful sleeveless one that looked almost Grecian, and thought would be perfect for her._

 _And, of course, seeing Tina dressed up as she was would surely be a surprise for her work mates, and you usually get at least one idiot, so I thought Graves, again, being the professional person he was, would stand up for his auror, whilst reminding said idiots of proper conduct._

 _I think that Jacob and Queenie are actually Jewish, but as they were just having a simple wedding at the town hall, I just gave them a rather basic ceremony._

 _Was it too simple though? I didn't think they'd want anything fancy._

 _I thought of focusing a bit more on Newt and Tina during the ceremony, having them glance at each other as Queenie and Jacob say their vows, perhaps, but I didn't want to detract from Jacob and Queenie's moment._

 _Now, even though this was essentially a 'fluffy' chapter, I had to still bring our attention back to the real matter at hand: Grindlewald. So, when Tina returns to work, we discover Grindlewald found another obscurial in France. I figured that, as Grindlewald was apparently seeking an obscurial in America, perhaps he'd try again in France?_

 _I admit, I know next to no French, so have had to look up the correct words and spelling of the few French words I used in this chapter. As such, I'll likely have my French characters speaking English for the most part._

 _Deputy Head Auror Cousteau is a man I've tried to portray as thinking that a woman shouldn't do a 'man's job', and so is critical of Graves' decision to have Tina on his team, yet is nevertheless impressed when she can make connections so quickly._

 _But, while I think that Deputy Head Auror Cousteau, may see women as being 'too emotional' to do 'men's work,' I don't think he'd be outright patronising/misogynistic. I see his viewpoint more like: 'women and men are different. So, while a woman can be powerful, how can she do the same job a man does?' He doesn't yet get the idea that: a woman can do a man's job, but she doesn't have to do it the same way as a man to get it done well._

 _Following me?_

 _Now, back to the fluff: Credence's first date._

 _What did you think?_

 _I figured Credence would ask Newt for help, being one of the only people he could ask. Newt, I knew would not consider himself qualified for the task, but would still try to help, anyway._

 _I did some research on some movies in 1926, and was tossing up between two:_

 _I thought he and Willow could see 'Sparrows', which is a drama about a young woman who saves a baby from kidnappers, and features a horrible 'baby farm' in the middle of a swamp, run by a cruel couple, Mr and Mrs Grim._

 _I figured this would prove a challenge to Credence, and possibly trigger his obscurial. In a muggle movie theatre…_

 _However, while this may cause drama, and cause him to wonder whether he could conceivably have a real relationship with Willow, I thought he'd really been through enough already, and had had many points already, when his obscurial was triggered, and didn't see the point in triggering it here._

 _I wanted Credence to be able to just be a young man, for a change, out on a date with a girl._

 _And, I realised I wanted Willow's character to be one wo helps Credence experience the things he never had the chance to, in the past: like having fun catching snowflakes on your tongue._

 _So, I had them see the movie portrayed, which was a very famous one, apparently. Only the third movie ever to be done in colour, and also the first film we ever see the 'slicing of the sails' stunt: when the hero is in the rigging of the ship and jumps, stabbing a sail with a knife to slow his descent to the ship's deck, slicing through the sail as he falls._

 _So, what did you think?_

 _Please leave a review. I love feedback!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's note: Hi everybody! Thank you so much for your reads, and reviews. I'm so sorry it's taken so long to update- writer's block is very bad for the muse._

 _But, here is chapter 11, and I'm hoping to get chapter 12 up soon._

 _Hope you like it._

~..~..~..~..

Newt had just climbed out of his suitcase in the morning, after giving his creatures their first feed and check-up of the day, when an owl swooped through his kitchen window, dropping a letter on the small dining table.

Noticing it was from his publisher, Newt opened it quickly.

 _Dear Mr Newt Scamander_ , he read.

 _This is just a letter to confirm the time of your first book promotion, at 'Flourish and Blotts' on Diagon Alley, to be held at 7:30 this evening._

 _The event will be held on the second story of the shop. Not to worry, it will be magically enlarged to accommodate all the guests. I can't tell you how pleased I am that so many prominent business and families are intrigued by your book, Mr Scamander._

 _As such, I believe it is only proper that, rather than simply me introducing your book, you, yourself, should be the one to inform those gathered of the subject matter you have spent over a year writing and researching out in the field._

 _I'm sure that, as the author of a book such as 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', which is the very first of its like, you would be the best person to truly showcase why these creatures are such a value to our wizarding communities, and how we can better understand them._

 _I apologise for the late notice of the required speech, however you may be rest assured, there is no need to make it a lengthy one. We simply require a small introduction as to what made you agree to write the book in the first place and why you think the subject matter is so important. Perhaps even giving a short reading, so those gathered can understand the layout, would help?_

 _I look forward to seeing you at the promotional event tonight. I ask that you please arrive at least twenty minutes early, so that you can be introduced to your guests, which, I'm pleased to say, include some very well-connected members of the community, who could help spread your book further than just the Beast Division at the Ministry!_

 _If you need me at all, I will be at 'Flourish and Botts' all of today, helping to set up for this evening._

 _All of your guests are on the list, as requested, they simply have to give their name at reception._

 _Looking forward to sharing in your success tonight,_

 _Regards,_

 _Mr Augustus Worme._

 _Obscurus books_

Newt heart sank before it suddenly started to palpitate.

He had to make a speech tonight?

So, not only would he be forced to mingle with the so-called 'elite' of the wizarding community, but he also would have to stand on a stage, all eyes on him, and try to explain to a hall full of people why protecting magical creatures was preferable to killing them.

He had enough trouble doing that when he was trying to persuade his superiors in the Ministry's Beast division why having kneazles at the ministry was a good idea.

Still, when they learned that three kneazles had already been working there, undetected, for three months, and were responsible for catching several wizards on theft or fraud charges, they realised the benefit of having the kneazles around, and had allowed them to stay.

Better to ask forgiveness than permission, he'd thought.

But still, Newt sighed. How was he going to convince a hall full of people, who had grown up, as most wizards do, thinking most magical creatures that did not count as pets, were either dangerous, or not worth bothering with?

Especially when the very thought of all those eyes on him made him feel faint.

Still, he tried to reassure himself as he set about getting ready for the day, at least he'll have his friends there.

Maybe he could try and imagine he was just talking to them about his creatures?

Newt sighed again, running fingers through his hair.

Worrying makes you suffer twice, he reminded himself. Best to just get on with it.

Still, he argued, there couldn't be any harm in going to Diagon Alley to discuss the matter with Mr Worme, to see if there could be any changes agreed to?

Grabbing his suitcase, Newt locked his flat and headed to the Leaky Cauldron.

~..~..~..~..

"Morning, Goldstein."

Tina looked up from the Daily Prophet as Auror Bennet sat down opposite her.

"Morning, Bennet," Tina greeted as she put the paper down on the table with an exasperated sigh.

"No mention of the hospital attack in France," she stated. "Why? Head Auror Scamander sent a press release out to the media. Why wouldn't it be in the paper?"

Charles Bennet shrugged, frowning slightly.

"If you ask me, I think the Government here is just trying to prevent a panic," he put forward. "People are already spooked."

"But Grindlewald's actions affect all of us," Tina insisted. "If people are kept in the dark, how can we be prepared?"

"Hey," Bennet remined her gently. "Remember, this isn't America. We haven't got a right to tell them what's what."

"True," Tina granted. "But I just wish that- Mr Graves!" Tina called, spotting her boss enter the dining room and order his usual morning coffee.

"Goldstein," Graves nodded in greeting as the woman approached, looking determined. "I take it you saw the paper this morning? Or more precisely," he amended, "saw what was missing?"

"Head Auror Scamander did send a press release, didn't he?" Tina queried.

"Yes, he did," Graves nodded, his features forming into a frown. "It's absolutely ridiculous, of course, but we can't force the press to publish a story they don't want to publish. Or they can't."

Tina frowned.

"You think someone told the press not to publicise it?" She queried. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Someone who would get an advantage from keeping people in the dark," Graves considered. "Perhaps," he continued, "one of Grindlewald's followers could be connected with the paper?"

"Should we go talk to them, sir?" Bennet asked hopefully. All their team had really done since arriving in England was paperwork, and he was itching for some field work.

"Scamander's team's doing that already, Bennet," Graves informed him. "Makes sense. This is his territory, his people. He'd know if someone was lying."

The inn door opened, letting in a cold breeze, and the group turned to see Newt Scamander enter and shut the door quietly, trying to be inconspicuous, and failing, as Tina moved to greet him straight away.

"Newt," she called, causing to the magizoologist to look up with a smile.

"Good morning, Tina," he said, clutching his case.

"What brings you here?" Tina asked.

"Well," Newt began, "I'm just heading to Diagon Alley. My book has its first promotional event tonight, and my publisher, Mr Worme, is overseeing the venue set up today. However, he's also asked me to make a speech, so, I'm going to try and explain to him why that is such an absurd idea."

"Why would that be an absurd idea?" Tina queried, and Newt gave her a sceptical look.

"You have seen me around people, haven't you?" He reminded her.

"I know you don't like the limelight, Newt," Tina granted. "But honestly, who better to advocate for your creatures, and your book, than you?"

"How did your meeting with the French go?" Newt asked, wanting to get the attention off him by any means.

Tina glanced back to Mr Graves, who was observing her closely.

They'd been wanting to publicise the information anyway, she considered. Where could the harm be? And he needed to know…

Turning back to Newt, Tina stepped closer.

"Grindlewald found another obscurial," she said, keeping her voice low. Newt's eyes, however, snapped up to meet hers in shock.

"What?"

"A boy." Tina explained quickly. "In a hospital. Unfortunately, he died. The French Ministry, apparently, doesn't see it as a loss, as Grindlewald couldn't get his hands on a 'living weapon'."

'How old was he?" Newt asked softly.

"Nine," Tina whispered, and Newt closed his eyes, hanging his head sadly, before a thought occurred to him.

"Why wasn't this in the papers?" He asked.

"Because someone stopped the press release being published," Mr Graves spoke up, causing the pair to jump as he approached them, serving Tina a sideways look.

"We had sent a press release to the public, sir," Tina defended herself. "And Newt was involved with the obscurial in New York, so-"

"It's alright, Goldstein," Graves told her, smirking slightly before regarding Newt carefully.

"You know a lot about obscurials, don't you, Mr Scamander?" He asked.

But Newt wasn't listening, his mind was racing. Suddenly he looked up at Tina.

"Grindlewald is after obscurials?" He clarified.

Tina nodded, swallowing.

"It seems so," she confirmed.

Graves watched as some kind of silent communication appeared to pass between the pair, and Tina's behaviour in his hospital room, whilst giving her testimony, came back to him.

"So sorry," Newt announced. "But I have to go." Turning, he moved to the front door.

"I thought you were going to Diagon Alley, Mr Scamander?" Graves pointed towards the back of the inn, where the doorway to the wizarding street could be found.

"Actually, I have to go to Hogwarts," Newt countered, distractedly. "Something more pressing has come to my attention."

"Hogwarts?" Graves echoed, stepping forward to prevent Newt leaving. "That's perfect. I've been meaning to speak with an old school professor of yours: Albus Dumbledore."

Newt tried very hard to control his expression, keeping his eyes low, but Graves was not the Head of his Department for nothing.

There was so much you could tell from body language.

"Would you mind if I came with you?" Graves asked, in a voice that brooked no objection. "I would like to meet the man who Grindlewald was so interested in."

"Of course, Mr Graves," Newt nodded, trying to smile. "Tina-"

"Yes, Auror Goldstein," Graves spoke over the man firmly. "You must come as well. You encountered Grindlewald also, just as Mr Scamander did. You could help me find the truth."

"Of course, Sir," Tina agreed, swallowing.

Graves opened the inn door with a smile.

"Shall we?"

Feeling like she was being escorted once more to the Death Cell, Tina walked through, Newt and Graves close behind.

"Whenever you're ready, Mr Scamander," Graves invited, gripping the man's arm, tightly.

Swallowing, Newt glanced at Tina, who took up his free hand, and all together, they apparated.

~..~..~..~..

Newt stumbled slightly as all three appeared before the wrought iron gates that led up to Hogwarts castle.

But today, Newt felt trepidation.

Credence was in that castle. And Newt had just brought the man who now could order his death.

"You won't be able to open the gate," Newt informed Graves as the man moved forward. "No one's expecting us, so they can't release the wards."

"So, how do we get in?" Graves asked.

"One moment," Newt took out his wand and pointed it towards the gates.

"Expect Patronum!"

Tina watched in fascination as a gambolling platypus burst from Newt's wand and through the gates to make its way towards the castle.

"A platypus?" Tina smiled. "It suits you," she told him.

"Thank you," Newt smiled shyly. He'd always liked his patronus, as a platypus appeared to be made up of different animals, and was also exceptionally unique in the animal kingdom. It wasn't the most imposing, or noble of creatures, but it was quirky and hard-working, though many people thought it was strange. Much like himself, really.

"So now what?" Graves asked.

"We wait," Newt answered.

It wasn't long before Professor Imamu could be seen walking towards them.

"Mr Scamander," she greeted, opening the gates with a wave of her hand. "When your patronus arrived with your message, saying you were just outside, I had to come greet you. Welcome back."

"Thank you, Professor Imamu," Newt greeted, thankful his patronus had reached the correct person. "This is Professor Batini Imamu," Newt did the introductions, trying to stall for time. "She teaches Defence against the Dark Arts here at Hogwarts. Professor Imamu, this is Mr Graves, the Head Auror at MACUSA, and Auror Tina Goldstein."

"Welcome Mr Graves," Batini nodded cordially. "And you are Tina," stepping forward, the woman wrapped Tina up in a hug, much to her surprise. "I'm so happy to finally meet you," Batini smiled as she stepped back. "You are spoken of most highly."

"Thank you," Tina smiled.

"I'm here to speak with Albus Dumbledore," Graves got to the point.

"Certainly, Mr Graves," Imamu nodded. "Though I can't imagine how a humble teacher can help the Head Auror of MACUSA."

"Well, that's what I'm here to determine," Graves smiled politely, gesturing for her to lead the way.

"After you, Professor."

~..~..~..~..

Tina couldn't believe she was walking through the halls of the famous Hogwarts. The founder of her own school of Ilvermorny, Isolt Sayre, had based the American school on the famous wizarding institute of Britain. So, to actually walk through the very halls that the famed 'Morrigan' had always wished to see was a very humbling experience.

Tina just wished it was under better circumstances.

With Graves walking determinedly alongside them, she was unable to speak with Newt. Had Credence been told they were here? Was he safe?

Credence wouldn't think they'd brought Graves here on purpose, would he?

Oh, how would he react if he saw him? Tina wondered. True, Graves had no idea what Credence even looked like, let alone that he was still alive, yet Credence would still see Graves, and be reminded of the man who had tried to take advantage of him, just because Credence wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere.

Credence would be terrified, Tina thought.

So, she would try to protect him as well as she could.

Clenching her jaw, Tina cast a side glance at her boss. He was not Head Auror for nothing, after all. Certainly, he had seen the reaction in both herself and Newt, upon realising Grindlewald was looking for other obscurials?

Surely, he suspected something?

So, what would she do if she was confronted by Graves directly? Tina wondered. She was an auror for MACUSA. She was a part of Mr Graves' team. How could she lie to her own boss? She'd be fired all over again, with no hope of ever getting her job back.

On the other hand, what if she was confronted, and told Graves of Credence's existence?

Mr Graves had approved of Madam Piquery's order to kill Credence in New York, and had always held the law in the highest regard.

Would he order his death once more?

But they were not in America, Tina reminded herself. So, what would he do then?

Give the power to the one who had authority here, Tina realised, and she glanced at Newt.

Would Head Auror Theseus Scamander order Credence's death? Even Newt wasn't sure what his brother would do.

Swallowing, Tina tried to keep her composure.

She couldn't decide how Graves or Auror Scamander would react, but she was determined to not allow Credence to be put in danger again.

' _One step at a time Goldstein'_ , she reminded herself as they reached what appeared to be one of the many classrooms in the dizzying maze that was Hogwarts castle.

"Professor Dumbledore," Professor Imamu announced as they entered. "Head Auror of MACUSA, Mr Graves, is here to see you. As is Auror Tina Goldstein, and Newt Scamander."

Tina watched as the middle-aged man looked up from the paperwork he was doing to stand up graciously in greeting.

This was the famous Albus Dumbledore, she had heard about?

Tina wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but seeing the man dressed in rich purple robes that brought out the auburn in his greying hair brilliantly, smiling as he removed his glasses, to place them carefully on his desk, Tina felt only a kindly warmth from this man, and wondered why Grindlewald would have such an interest in this man that it compelled the dark wizard to ask Newt about him in a MACUSA interrogation room.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore?" Graves confirmed as he stepped forward, arm extended.

"Indeed so, Mr Graves," Dumbledore smiled, accepting the hand cordially, before nodding to his colleague.

"Thank you Batini," he said gratefully. "You can go back to your term planning. Merlin knows I'm having a nightmare time of it."

"And here I thought you enjoyed planning, Albus," Batini commented with a smile.

"No one becomes a teacher for the paperwork," Dumbledore insisted. "Honestly, if I wanted to do paperwork, I'd have accepted that Ministry position I was offered many years ago. I'm sure you can empathise," Dumbledore continued to his visitors in good humour. "I doubt you became Aurors for the paperwork either."

Graves considered the man cautiously. This was the person Grindlewald had such an interest in?

"It's a necessary tedium, unfortunately," he answered eventually as Batini took her leave.

"It is," Dumbledore agreed, before appearing to finally spot Tina.

"And you must be Auror Tina Goldstein," the man extended a hand, which Tina accepted. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear. You are spoken of most highly," here, he flicked a glance at Newt, who, as usual, was doing his best to avoid direct eye contact with anyone.

"Thank you, Sir," Tina nodded to accept the compliment.

"Indeed," Dumbledore insisted, turning back to Mr Graves. "From what I understand, you are fortunate to have someone such as Auror Goldstein on your team, Mr Graves."

"Thank you," Graves nodded. "But where do you get your information from, Mr Dumbledore?"

"I don't wish to cause embarrassment," here, Dumbledore glances at Newt again, who was currently looking out the window. "Suffice it to say, someone who has first-hand experience with Tina's skills as an auror."

"Fascinating," Graves commented, a little drily, as he was beginning to feel the good professor, far from being friendly, was trying to distract. "But this is not a social call, Professor Dumbledore."

Albus appeared confused.

"Then, forgive me, but why then is Newt here?" the teacher asked, turning to his former student curiously. "Newt, have you decided on a new career? And I was so looking forward to your book promotion. It's tonight, isn't it?"

"Yes sir," Newt answered. "At Flourish and Blots in Diagon Alley. And no," he added, "I'm quite content to stay a writer."

"Mr Scamander is here at my request," Mr Graves spoke up. Yes, he realised, Dumbledore was clearly trying to distract him.

But why?

"All those in this room have a connection to Gellert Grindlewald," Graves began. "Newt and Tina both apprehended him in New York. I was the one he impersonated for months. But you, Mr Dumbledore," Graves considered. "You, Grindlewald specifically enquires about, to Mr Scamander in fact," he gestures to the man standing awkwardly to one side, "as he attempts to frame Mr Scamander for letting an obscurial loose in New York City. Now, why would a man such as Gellert Grindlewald be so interested in a humble Hogwarts professor?"

"Why indeed," Dumbledore answered after a beat, a small frown creasing his forehead. "Have you any theories yet, Head Auror Graves?"

"Well," Graves smiled thinly, "that's what I'm hoping you can help me with, Professor Dumbledore. And need I remind you," he added firmly, "that if you impede our investigation in any way, you can be liable for obstruction of Justice."

Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Was that a threat, Head Auror Graves?" Dumbledore asked. "I assure you, the last thing I would ever wish to do is prevent justice being done. Indeed, much like Auror Goldstein and Mr Scamander, injustice is something I cannot tolerate."

"Good to know," Graves' voice was controlled, but his eyes studied Dumbledore carefully. "Then I'm sure you'll be honest about your connection with Gellert Grindlewald?"

"Of course, Mr Graves," Dumbledore nodded slowly. "What, exactly do you wish to know?"

"How do you know Grindlewald?" Graves pressed.

Dumbledore shrugged. "I meet him as a teenager one summer, while he was visiting his aunt, Bathilda Bagshot. Have you heard of her?"

Newt's head shot up in surprise, though Dumbledore's gaze remained fixed on Auror Percival Graves.

"Yes," Graves admitted. "The historian. I interviewed her not long ago. And yes, she did mention the two of you were…friends."

"Yes, she lived not far from my family home," Dumbledore continued, lightly. "There weren't many young wizards in my village at the time, and Bathilda had been a friend of my mother, so it was inevitable that we met. But if you spoke to Bathilda, you probably already know everything, then. I haven't seen Gellert since, except in the papers." He sighed. "It's horrible, to think that one you once called a friend is capable of such atrocities as he has committed."

"Yes, I'm sure," Graves nodded thoughtfully. "So, you haven't been in communication with Grindlewald at all since then?"

"I believe I've just said as much, sir," Dumbledore stated, his voice gentle but firm.

"So then, tell me," Graves tried another route, "do you know why Grindlewald would be so fascinated with obscurials?"

This time, Graves notice the man fold his hands within the long sleeves of his robes, and realised he'd struck something, for the professor to take up such a classic defensive stance.

"Obscurials are said to be incredibly powerful," Dumbledore spoke in what Newt knew as his 'teaching voice'. "As well as being a source of fear for many in the wizarding community. So why wouldn't a man such as Grindlewald, who wants to instil fear, not be interested in such a being?"

"Do you have any connections in France, Mr Dumbledore?" Graves tried again.

"Not really, no," Dumbledore answered mildly. "Why do you ask?"

"Grindlewald destroyed a French wizarding hospital, yesterday, trying to recruit another obscurial, much like he tried to do in New York," Graves informed flatly, and he finally was rewarded with a true reaction, as Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"And the obscurial?" Dumbledore asked.

"Dead," Graves reported and Albus hung his head.

"He was only nine," Tina added sadly.

"What was his name?" Albus asked slowly.

"Luis," Graves answered, and watched as the professor closed his eyes, as if in grief.

"So sad, for one so young to lose their life," Dumbledore said quietly, before appearing to gather himself.

"What do you know about obscurials, Mr Dumbledore?" Graves asked quickly.

Dumbledore took a breath.

"There is very little known about obscurials," Dumbledore admitted. "Even historians, like Bathilda Bagshot have struggled to comprehend them fully. What is relatively common knowledge, is that obscurials develop an obscurus as a result of trying to supress their magic."

"But I'd like to hear what _you_ know of obscurials, Mr Dumbledore," Graves pressed.

Dumbledore shook his head slightly.

"I'm just a transfiguration teacher, Mr Graves," Dumbledore reminded the Head Auror. "However, perhaps Professor Imamu may be a better person to speak to, regarding obscurials themselves, as she is our Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Or even Newt," Dumbledore gestured to the man himself. "He has met two obscurials so far, which is more than most can attest to. One in Sudan, and the one in New York. You were studying the obscurus you got from the girl in Sudan, Newt," he continued. "Did you discover anything from it?"

"Only that the obscurus cannot survive without it's host," Newt stammered as all eyes travelled to him. "It draws its power from them. And that, is how it can eventually end up killing them," he finished quietly.

"I apologise that I cannot help you further, Mr Graves," Professor Dumbledore spoke up. "But, I'm afraid, I've told you all I can."

"Really?" Graves considered, observing Dumbledore closely. "Well, I'm sorry too. After all, the sooner we can apprehend Grindlewald, the safer everyone will be."

"Oh, I couldn't agree more, Auror Graves," Albus nodded. "I wish you the best of luck in your endeavours to capture him."

Graves' mind was racing as he considered Dumbledore carefully.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Dumbledore," he said. "I hope you won't mind if I come back with any further questions?"

"Not at all," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Though I doubt I'll be able to give you any more information than I already have."

"We'll see," Graves smiled before turning and striding out of the room, Tina following. Newt, after a quick glance at Dumbledore, trailed behind, hoping for a word with Tina before she left.

"Well, Sir?" Tina prompted as they made their way back to the school gates.

"He's hiding something," Graves muttered. "Did you see how he reacted when I mentioned obscurials?"

"He is a teacher sir," Tina tried to keep her tone objective. "I'm sure, it was simply the death of a child that-"

"It wasn't just the one in France," Graves countered. "He became defensive the moment the very word was mentioned. And did you hear how evasive he was?" He continued. "Answering a question, but never giving any straight information, unless it was something I could have found out anyway, like Bathilda Bagshot." Graves smirked. "He was very good, choosing his words carefully. The man should have been a politician, not a teacher."

"Wait!"

The pair turned as Newt caught up with them, professor Imamu close behind.

"The two of you will need help exiting the school gates," the Professor informed them, lightly.

"Very well," Graves sighed. "You two may accompany us to the gate then."

"Mr Graves," Newt began cautiously as they resumed walking. "Forgive me, but I'm not sure what you hoped to accomplish by questioning professor Dumbledore?"

"It's not your place to interfere in an auror investigation, Mr Scamander," Graves told the man curtly.

"True," Newt accepted the fact. "But can you at least tell me why you felt the presence of Tina or myself would do anything? You barely let her speak."

Graves stopped so abruptly that Newt almost walked into him.

"Because, as I said, all of us in that room had connections to Grindlewald." Graves explained shortly. "And considering the good Professor's reaction, you all have connections to obscurials as well."

"Well, yes," Newt stammered. "After all, Tina and I were both there in the subway-"

"But there's more to it, isn't there?" Graves pushed, and Newt was thankful he didn't like making eye contact under normal circumstances.

Seeing the man glance at Tina, Graves was reminded once more of the auror's behaviour during her testimonial to him when she visited his hospital room.

Wordlessly, Graves resumed walking, the others following in silence, up until the gates.

"Thank you for your visit," Professor Imamu said in farewell as the gates opened with a wave of her hand.

Graves and Tina exited, Tina looking back at Newt.

"You're not coming?" She asked.

"You're on an investigation, I have no right," Newt answered, glancing at Graves. "Besides, I still need to talk to Professor Dumbledore, so…"

Graves eyed the magizoologist suspiciously. This was a man who had smuggled a thunderbird into New York city, along with a whole case full of magical creatures…

"Good luck with your book promotion tonight, Mr Scamander," Mr Graves told him. "I hope it goes well for you."

"Thank you, Mr Graves," Newt replied, a little surprised, as the school gates closed one more.

Graves gripped Tina's arm and disapparated.

Newt immediately turned to Professor Imamu.

"Credence is in the Slytherin Common room," she answered his unspoken question. "He's safe, and hidden."

Newt took a deep breath, recalling the look in Graves' eyes.

"Not for much longer though," he muttered, "if Mr Graves has his way."

~..~..~..~..

Tina stumbled slightly as Graves released her, to find they'd returned to the Leaky Cauldron.

"We're not going to the Ministry, Sir?" Tina queried, as Graves strode to the door.

"No," he answered quietly. "Follow me, please, Goldstein."

Tina was reminded of being led from the cells to interrogation as Graves strode through the entrance hall and up the stairs.

Opening the door to his room, Graves held the door open for Tina before closing it sharply and casting a spell on the door.

"That should stop housekeeping from barging in," he muttered and Tina swallowed, fearing she was in trouble.

"Have I done something wrong, Sir?" She asked.

"I'm not sure yet, Goldstein," Graves told her, frowning. "But I still want to talk to you."

Tina swallowed.

"About what, Sir?" she asked as Graves stepped closer, his eyes studying her closely.

"You were truthful during your testimony to me at the hospital, weren't you, auror Goldstein?"

"Of course, Mr Graves," Tina answered automatically. "Everything I told you about what happened in the subway was true, as far as I could remember." She swallowed, clearing her throat slightly. "Why do you ask, Sir? I wasn't the only person there, did someone else contradict my story?"

Graves took a breath.

"No," he answered evenly, though his eyes never left Tina. "But I know I'm missing something. Have a seat, Goldstein." With a flick of his wrist, Graves made two wooden chairs materialise in the small room and, cautiously, Tina sat down in one whilst Graves took the other.

"I want to understand more about these obscurials," Graves told her, placing his elbows on the armrests of his chair. "I want to understand why Grindlewald wants to utilise one so badly."

"Oh," Tina stammered slightly. "I'm not sure how much more I can tell you."

"You lost your job trying to save the one in New York from a beating," Graves reminded her.

"I didn't know Credence was an obscurial at the time," Tina admitted. "I just wanted to save him from his cruel mother."

"Still, he then listened to you in the subway, did he not?" Graves pressed.

Tina began to shake her head before her eyes seemed to widen in realisation.

"He remembered," she whispered.

"Who remembered what?" Graves asked quickly.

"Credence," Tina stated, seeming to come back into the room. "Sir, you were, or should I say, Grindlewald was, assigned the task of ensuring all the nomajes in the vicinity were obliviated after I used magic at the Second Salemers' meeting. He would have been in charge of ensuring everyone, including the Barebones family, were obliviated. But, as Credence remembered me in the subway, I don't think he was."

Graves thought for a moment before nodding.

"Grindlewald could tell there was something different about the boy," he mused. "And so, he didn't obliviate him."

"Or Credence's obscurus somehow protected him from the memory charm," Tina added her perspective. "That may have been how Grindlewald discovered him in the first place." Tina let out a breath, smiling slightly.

"I had wondered why he'd listened to me, in the subway," she mused. "That was why: he remembered I'd stood up to his mother for him."

Graves studied Tina's facial expression closely.

"It's a shame, then," he spoke up, "that he was killed in the subway. All the boy…Credence," he corrected himself, slowly, "appeared to want was to belong somewhere."

Tina swallowed, and Graves watched as her expression became more guarded.

"Yes," Tina agreed, and Graves could hear a tightness to her voice. "It's a shame. But, still," Tina continued, "it was Madame Piquery's order that the aurors attack."

"Yes, it was," Mr Graves nodded, studying Tina carefully. "Until all that was left was black vapour."

"Yes," Tina nodded, lowering her head.

Seeing her bowed form, Graves assumed it was in grief, but, on closer observation, he could not see a single tear in the woman's eyes.

This woman had risked her job to save a boy from being beaten by a cruel mother, he reminded himself. She was fiercely protective of those who couldn't protect themselves.

The obscurial in New York, Credence, had listened to her in the subway, and had begun to calm down at her request.

They had had a connection…

Surely, if he had died, Tina would be upset at the memory?

But no, casting his mind back, to the time she visited him in hospital, he couldn't recall Tina crying then, either.

She was an auror, Graves reminded himself.

But she had a compassionate heart, a voice in his mind countered. And, recalling the testimony she'd given at the hospital, she had actually smiled, after stating how Credence should have had the chance to go to school.

He had thought the smile out of place, as a caring person like Auror Goldstein would never smile in callousness.

Graves could simply order Goldstein to revel anything she was hiding, of course, whether by threats or veritiserum, but she was a good auror. She had been trained by him, and knew how to answer questions literally, deflect, or to give half-truths. It was a technique taught to new aurors, in case they were to be compromised by the criminals they were after, or another government.

That was exactly what Dumbledore had done, as well.

Percival Graves was missing something, he knew. And the feeling that Auror Goldstein, Newt Scamander and Albus Dumbledore appeared to know something he didn't was irking him.

What was it? He wondered, studying the auror before him. What was the connection?

He didn't want to lose an auror like Goldstein, and knew Tina would only keep secrets to protect others, like she had done with her sister, not telling him Queenie was a legilimens until directly asked.

Which meant that, once again, Graves was not asking the right questions.

Credence had listened to her…

She had risked losing her job to protect him…

She was fiercely protective of those she cared about…

"Auror Goldstein," Graves leaned forward as a new suspicion raised itself in his mind. "Credence is dead, yes?"

Graves watched as Tina's head snapped up before attempting to keep her expression blank. Although, it didn't stop the colour draining from her face.

"How could he have survived such an attack, Sir?" She asked.

Graves let out a breath in a rush as realisation struck.

The silent communication between Newt and Tina. Dumbledore's evasiveness regarding obscurials. And now, Tina's reaction to his direct question, all seemed to fit together now.

Leaning back in his chair, Graves ran a hand down in face.

"Now that," he stated, "is the big question." He met Tina's eyes seriously. "Care to answer that for me, Auror Goldstein?"

~..~..~..~..

"Should we get Credence out of here?" Newt asked as he watched Dumbledore pace his office, Professor Imamu stood by the desk, deep in thought.

"He will have to leave soon, anyway," Imamu granted heavily. "The school term starts again in less than a week."

"So, how can we keep Credence hidden?" Newt queried.

Dumbledore paused in his pacing.

"Credence has proven on more than one occasion that he can control his obscurus on his own. And he has proven a proficient student," he reminded his companions. "And Auror Graves is clearly no fool…"

"What are you saying, Albus?" Imamu asked.

"I'm saying," Dumbledore began slowly, "that perhaps, we should no longer try to hide him."

Newt raised his eyebrows.

"Really?" His voice was sceptical. "MACUSA could order his death on the spot."

"MACUSA is out of their jurisdiction, here," Dumbledore reminded them all. "And if Credence is to be questioned by the Ministry now, he is more than capable of proving he is no threat to public safety or the Statute of Secrecy."

"I was planning to take him to my book promotion tonight," Newt spoke up thoughtfully. "But, now with Mr Graves becoming curious about obscurials, perhaps it's not such a good idea."

"No, take him to your book promotion tonight, Newt," Dumbledore encouraged. "Credence has been out in public before, after all. And what a more perfect opportunity for him to prove to himself, and others, that he is perfectly safe? Neither Mr Graves or your brother know what he looks like, anyway."

"True," Professor Imamu nodded. "Credence hasn't been learning to control his magic to simply spend the rest of his life in hiding, after all."

Newt stood up.

"I think we need to inform Credence of all this," he announced. "This is his life, it should be his decision on what to do."

"Agreed," Dumbledore nodded.

~..~..~..~..

Credence was trying to write a letter to Modesty, but was struggling. More than once, he'd thrown a piece of parchment into the fire, unhappy with the wording. How do you tell your sister, who is an orphan, because of you, that she no longer has to be afraid of you anymore?

He had now finished his seventh attempt, and lay down his quill to read it over.

' _Dear Modesty,_ he'd written.

 _I'm sorry I haven't written to you before now. I just felt so guilty about leaving you behind, alone, in New York, and I had no idea what I could possibly tell you that would repair anything between us._

 _I hope you are doing well in the orphanage, and that you can find the loving family you deserve to have._

 _As for me, there are many things that you don't understand about me, and things that I am still learning myself._

 _Ma had tried to make me ashamed of what I was, so I couldn't even tell my sisters, but now, I think it's time that I be honest with you._

 _Magic is real._

 _That part, Ma got right._

 _But what she thought was evil, and what she tried to teach us was evil, actually isn't evil at all._

 _I've met real witches and wizards, Modesty. And it turns out, they're just people. Like anyone you'd see on the street, just trying to live their lives in peace._

 _And, it turns out, I'm a wizard myself._

 _That's what Ma hated about me so much, Modesty. Apparently, my birth mother was a witch, and Ma knew it. She thought she could 'fix' me. But, that just made everything worse, as the magic in me began to explode, the more I tried to supress it._

 _Now that I'm in Britain, the good news is: I'm not afraid of it anymore. I'm not ashamed anymore._

 _I can control it now._

 _There's a school that witches and wizards can go to, where they learn to control their powers. I'm here, at the wizardry school in Britain, and I've met other wizards, like me. They've helped me so much, Modesty. They're kind, and accepting, and it's because of them, and their teachings, that I'm no longer hurting people._

 _For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm accepted somewhere. I have real friends._

 _I'm so sorry I left you behind in New York. I'm sorry for so many things. I don't know if I'll ever see you again, Modesty, but you are still my sister, and I couldn't continue to live my life, knowing you believed me to be a monster._

 _I used to think I was. Ma made me think I was._

 _But I'm not a monster, Modesty._

 _And I hope I can still be your brother._

 _I miss you, little sister. And I hope that, one day, we can see each other again._

 _If not, I hope that you can find a family, a true family, who love and accept you for who you are._

 _I hope to hear from you, Modesty. Just give your letter to my barn owl, Edison. He will be able to find me._

 _Love,_

 _Your Brother, Credence.'_

Credence sighed. It still didn't sound right. But, still, he felt it was the best he could make it.

"Edison," he called, and his owl fluttered over, having taken up the curtain railing as a favourite perch.

"Do you think you can make it to America, Edison?" Credence asked as he tied his letter securely to the owl's leg. "I need you to find my sister."

Edison hooted, fluffing his feathers up importantly, determined to do his job.

"Thank you," Credence told him as he made his way to his dormitory window. "Take care, and fly safely."

Opening the window, Credence let Edison take flight, skimming across the lake before gaining altitude.

Closing the window against the cold air, Credence made his way into the common room.

"Hey Credence," August greeted, looking up from his book. "Want another chess game?"

"Alright," Credence nodded. They were currently at seven to four and Credence needed to catch up.

But they had barely begun the game when the door opened, causing the pair to look up in surprise.

"Professor Dumbledore," August stood up in greeting. "Professor Imamu. What brings you to the Slytherin common room?"

"So sorry to interrupt your game, Mr Booth," Professor Dumbledore said with a smile. "But it is imperative we speak to Credence."

"Of course, Sir," August nodded, glancing curiously at the other man who'd accompanied the two teachers into the room. He was carrying a suitcase, and appeared nervous, though still looked around curiously.

"I'll leave you to talk," the teenager glanced at Credence before heading to his dormitory.

"What is it?" Credence asked, once August had left the room.

"We don't mean to alarm you, Credence," Dumbledore began slowly, sending a spell towards the doorway August had gone through, to ensure their privacy. "But we believe you need to be updated on recent events."

Credence cast his eyes over Dumbledore, Imamu and Newt, who all wore serious expressions.

"What's happened?" He asked.

"Well," Newt began carefully, "Grindlewald apparently broke into a French hospital last night."

Credence's eyes widened.

"Grindlewald's in France?" He stammered.

"That's not all," Newt added, taking a breath as he sat down in the chair August had just vacated.

"There was an obscurial being kept at the hospital," he informed Credence slowly. "Much like the girl I met in Sudan, this boy had accidently killed his family when he was six years old, and had then been sent to live at the hospital in a high security ward, where he lived for three years."

Credence felt his jaw drop as he absorbed this information.

Another obscurial?

"Grindlewald apparently found out about him, and tried to break him out of the hospital, most likely to use him, as he was attempting to use you," Dumbledore took up the narrative. "Unfortunately, it appears the obscurus felt it's host was under threat, and so it attacked. The ward was destroyed, and the boy, sadly, was killed."

"And Grindlewald escaped," Newt concluded.

Credence began to shake slightly as he began to breathe deeply.

"Credence?" Imamu came forward to kneel beside his chair.

"I'm alright," he said, wiping his eyes. "What was the boy's name?"

"Luis," Dumbledore supplied gently. "He was nine years old."

"And he died when Grindlewald found him?"

"We've surmised as much," Newt nodded. "The French ministry is still investigating."

"But this shows that Grindlewald is still looking for obscurials," Dumbledore prompted.

"So, it's not safe for me, yet," Credence surmised cautiously, feeling disappointed. He had so been looking forward to Newt's book promotion, and seeing Tina again.

"Not exactly. You have shown incredible progress, Credence," Imamu reminded him. "You've proven you can control your obscurus now. And remember," she added positively, "no one in the Ministry knows what you look like."

"But Grindlewald isn't the only development we've come to tell you about, Credence," Newt added, gaining the young man's attention once more.

"Mr Graves was just here, at Hogwarts, asking Dumbledore questions about obscurials," he informed him. "He's gone now," he was quick to add.

Credence swallowed.

"Mr Graves was here?"

"He still has no idea what you look like," Newt reminded him. "Remember, this Mr Graves was Grindlewald's prisoner for months."

"But he's asking about obscurials," Credence said haltingly, his mind racing as he began to rock slightly on his chair, his eyes beginning to turn white as the obscurus latched onto his fear, seeking an outlet.

"Credence," Newt came forward to also kneel by his chair. "You are safe, you have friends who care about you. You are learning to control your magic and the obscurus within you."

"Even if you were now revealed to be alive," Dumbledore added, "I doubt they could say you are a threat now."

As if to confirm Dumbledore's statement, Credence's eyes slowly turned back to normal as he took a deep breath.

Shaking slightly, Credence met Newt's gaze.

"Can I see Dougal?" He asked quietly, swallowing.

"Of course," Newt smiled, setting his case down on the floor and opening it quickly. "He's missed you."

~..~..~..~..~..

"I cannot _believe_ you kept this information from me, Goldstein," Graves' voice was barely a whisper, and yet Tina heard him loud and clear.

"By the time I found out, Credence was in Britain," she stated. "Out of our jurisdiction." She raised her eyes to meet her boss' gaze.

"And he is still out of our jurisdiction," she added.

"Newt Scamander knew as well," Graves stated. "So why didn't he tell his brother? He's the Head of British Magical Law Enforcement!"

"You will have to ask him," Tina said quietly. "I don't know his mind."

"You had a duty," Graves pointed an accusing finger at his auror. "You all did: To inform the auror department of _any_ threats to public safety."

"Credence is _no_ t a threat," Tina insisted. "Not anymore. He's been learning. He can control his power now."

"Really?" Graves was sceptical.

"Yes. He hasn't hurt anyone _once_ since he began his training. As long as Credence doesn't feel threatened," Tina insisted, "then he is not a threat."

Graves was on his feet now, pacing. His mind moving back and forth as he did.

Clenching his jaw, he took a long breath.

"So, Newt brought Credence to Hogwarts, and he's been learning magic here, for a month," he surmised, facing the wall, rather than Tina.

"Yes," Tina granted.

"And the Hogwarts Headmaster allowed this?"

"Headmaster Dippet agreed that Credence take lessons in the evening, and stay at the school over the Christmas holidays, so that he could develop his magic, as he was always meant to, while still ensuring the other students were kept in relative ignorance of his presence," Tina explained.

"And he's been doing so well, Sir," she insisted. "He can control his power. He can do wandless magic as well as non-verbal. He's learning so quickly. But, we wanted to ensure that he could easily prove his control before revealing him, if required," she added. "We knew someone like him wouldn't be a secret for long, but we wanted to be able to demonstrate how much control he had."

"It's extraordinary," Tina smiled, and Graves recognised it as the same smile he'd seen at the hospital in New York. "All obscurials were thought to be fated to die young, and here… here is an obscurial who not only has survived to adulthood, but has proven to be able to learn magic. So, who knows?" Tina insisted. "Maybe if that nine-year-old boy in France, Luis, had been allowed to learn magic, instead of just being locked up, he would have lived long enough to attend school."

Graves let out a slow breath as he regarded his auror.

"Still risking everything, to protect those who can't protect themselves, huh, Goldstein?"

"Our job is to protect, Sir," Tina concluded. "And these obscurials, these _children_ , are in greatest need of protection."

Graves closed his eyes as he seemed to nod to himself.

"I will postpone my judgement on Credence until I've met the boy," Graves granted. "And I will be informing Head Auror Scamander, and Madame Piquery, of his presence here, in Britain, and the roles you, his brother, and the professors at Hogwarts have had to play."

"Sir, that could put Credence in more danger, now we know Grindlewald is searching for obscurials." Tina objected, getting to her feet. "He could find out Credence is still alive."

"As for my judgement on your conduct in this situation," Graves continued as if he hadn't heard her, "I will relieve you of your wand."

Graves held out a hand and Tina felt herself struggling to breathe.

"You are suspended until further notice," Graves informed her. "You will not communicate with Newt Scamander, or Credence Barebone, or Albus Dumbledore, and you will not leave this hotel unaccompanied."

Tina felt her throat constrict almost painfully as tears began to well up in her eyes.

Not again…

"Sir-"

"Your wand, Goldstein," Auror Graves repeated, extending his hand further.

Slowly, Tina took out her wand and reluctantly handed it to her boss.

"I'm sorry Goldstein," Graves told her. "You are a good auror, but you can't let your heart rule your head. We have rules and protocol for a reason," he insisted. "And you've broken that."

~..~..~..~..

Newt and Credence had decided that, as Credence was likely going to be found soon, the safest thing would be to keep him in sight, so he'd have support if needed. So, as Newt still needed to talk to his publisher, after doing his rounds with his creatures, (Dougal had been so happy to see Credence, and had never left his side all the time the young man had visited the case,) Newt had invited Credence to come with him to Diagon Alley.

Credence looked around the wizarding street curiously, though still wary, as the pair made their way to Flourish and Blotts book shop. He was half expecting an auror, maybe even Mr Graves himself, to approach them, saying they were under arrest.

Credence swallowed.

What would he do if that happened?

Credence took a deep breath. He didn't want to be locked up, like that boy in France.

He had to prove he was safe. He had to prove he was in control.

Entering the bookshop, full of people taking advantage of the post-Christmas and pre-New Year sales, Credence stuck close to the wall, trying to avoid making contact with people as much as he could as Newt lead the way upstairs.

"Mr Worme," Newt called, getting his publisher's attention through the various wizards and witches decorating the large room in preparation for the presentation tonight.

"Ah, Mr Scamander," the man greeted and Credence spotted a middle-aged man with a round face and a combover approaching them to shake Newt's hand. "I hope you like what we're doing with the place?"

Newt cast his eyes over the large room that looked as if it were being magically turned into something of a ball room, just with pictures of the illustrations from his book as decorations.

"It's a bit much, isn't it?" He stammered.

"Nonsense," Mr Worme waved a dismissive hand. "Yours is the first book of its kind. It'll change how we view the magical community." Finally, the older man noticed Credence standing beside his client.

"And who is this?"

"Oh, Mr Worme, this is my friend, Credence Barebone," Newt introduced, and Credence swallowed nervously, as this was the first time he'd been formally introduced to someone in the magical community outside of Hogwarts.

Credence extended a hand.

"A pleasure to meet you Sir," he greeted slowly.

"Pleasure's mine," Mr Worme smiled as he accepted Credence's hand. "Any friend of Newt's is welcome."

"Credence has actually been a great assistance to me, with my creatures, Mr Worme," Newt added quickly. If Credence was about to be found out, Newt figured he should start as positively as possible. "Dougal, my demiguise, appears quite attached to him."

"Oh, how excellent," Mr Worme cheered, regarding Credence with more warmth. "A budding magizoologist already!" The publisher turned back to his client. "So, you can surely see, Newt, why you are the perfect person to be the one promoting your book."

"As to that, Sir," Newt stepped forward quickly. "I must admit, I'm not very comfortable with speech-making."

"Oh, you'll be fine, Newt," Mr Worme assured him. "Who better to orate the magnificence of our magical creatures than one who sees their true nature, such as you?"

"He has a point," Credence spoke up quietly, gaining the attention of the pair. "When other people see monsters, you see them as simply misunderstood," he raised his gaze to look at his friend and mentor, and Newt was thrown by the surety in the younger man's eyes.

"When other people see what they expect to see," Credence continued. "You see what's really there. You just need to help others to see as you do."

"Well said, Mr Barebone," Mr Worme gestured to the younger man gratefully. "You clearly know Mr Scamander well."

"He's one of the kindest men I've ever met," Credence explained and Newt felt himself turn beetroot at the praise.

"Well, it looks like I'm out voted on having to make a speech," Newt mumbled.

"You'll do fine," Mr Worme assured his client. "Just remember, be here at least twenty minutes early to greet your guests. A good first impression is always important."

~..~..~..~..

"I'm not comfortable with speech-making," Newt repeated as he and Credence made their way out of the bookshop and back onto the busy main street of Diagon Alley. "Whose side are you on, Credence?"

"Yours," Credence told him surely. "That's why I think you should do the speech."

"I don't want to do it," Newt stated firmly.

"Jacob was nervous about getting married to Queenie," Credence reminded him. "He was terrified. But you encouraged him to go through with it. And now, he is so happy. And I was nervous about going on my date with Willow, but you helped me go through with it." He smiled slightly. "And it went rather well, I think," he finished quietly.

Newt glanced at his friend with raised eyebrows. Credence had been rather quiet about how his date had gone the previous night, despite Newt asking. At the time, Newt felt it wasn't his business to push, but now…

"Is that where this newfound confidence has come from, Credence?" Newt asked and watched as this time it was Credence's turn to blush.

"How 'well' are we talking about, then?" Newt pressed with a smile.

"She…" Credence swallowed as he kept his eyes on the ground as they walked. "Willow gave me a kiss on the cheek."

"That definitely counts as 'well,'" Newt granted with a nod.

"But, you see, it's like Jacob said," Credence insisted earnestly, refocusing on Newt. "If you want to do something, but then your too scared to do it: will _you_ regret it?"

Newt considered this as they continued their way down the street.

"You love magical creatures more than anyone," Credence emphasised. "And you've done so much for me, and Jacob, and Queenie. If you don't talk to others, if you don't show people how amazing magical creatures are and why it's so important to protect them, do you think anything will change?"

Newt paused, taking a breath as he cast his eyes around the people hurrying along the snow-piled street.

What would happen if he _didn_ ' _t_ speak? He wondered. What could happen if he _did_?

Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, Newt focused on a notice board, where various flyers and posters had been pinned up.

His gaze focused on one in particular, as it fluttered in the cool winter breeze and he felt his teeth beginning to grind.

"Newt?" Credence asked as the magizoologist approached the notice board to rip a poster off the display.

"What is it?"

"Look at this," Newt held up the poster he'd torn off a noticeboard. "The circus has come to town. They're first show is tonight."

"Wizards have circuses?" Credence asked before he could stop himself.

"Circuses, are often used as a cover for smuggling contraband, like magical creatures, into and out of different countries." Newt explained. "They come in, perform for a few days, deal in whatever side business they have, then leave again. And due to their nomadic lifestyle," he continued, "they can travel pretty quickly if they're compromised."

"I want to go and see what manner of creatures they've got," Newt announced. "If they're trafficking magical creatures, or abusing any of the ones in their show, I want to rescue them."

"Let me help," Credence spoke up automatically.

"Very kind of you," Newt told her, "but I've done this before, and you have Grindlwald and the Ministry to worry about."

"I know what it's like to be abused," Credence reminded Newt seriously. "If it's happening to others, even magical creatures, I want to help them get free, like I did. Besides," he added, "this could be a way I can prove my control to the Ministry: by doing something good."

"Thank you, Credence," he said sincerely. "I think that's a wonderful mindset."

"So, you'll let me come with you?" Credence asked hopefully.

Newt regarded him measuredly, still unsure.

" _Please_ ," Credence insisted. "I'm tired of being afraid."

Sighing, seeing his point, Newt nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," Credence began to smile slowly, eager for the chance to finally prove himself, "When do we go?"

"Tonight," Newt said. "The sooner we get those creatures out of there, the better."

"What about your book promotion?" Credence wondered.

"There'll be plenty of time," Newt insisted. "Nothing to worry about."

~..~..~..~..

Graves strode into the British Auror Department, and people actually scrambled to get out of his way upon seeing the look on the MACUSA auror's face.

"Get out," Graves instructed as he burst into Theseus Scamander's office. The looks of apprehension on the faces of the junior aurors as they scuttled out would have been amusing if Graves was inclined to notice.

"What's the meaning of this, Graves?" Theseus demanded as the American Auror shut the door, pulled the blinds down and cast a privacy spell on the door. "We're getting ready to receive the French Head of Department, Auror Delacroix."

"Some new information has come to light, Auror Scamander," Graves announced. "And I'm sorry to have to tell you, it is not only my own Auror, but your own brother, who is responsible for this."

"For what?" Theseus demanded.

"The obscurial from New York," Graves informed him, getting his counterpart's attention.

"What about him?" Theseus asked slowly, dreading the answer.

"He's still alive," Graves announced.

Theseus' eyes widened.

"What?"

"He's here, in Britain." Graves continued. "Your brother brought him here from New York."

Theseus felt his jaw drop and he had to take a seat.

Of all the stupid things his brother's done…

"Where is the obscurial?" Theseus asked.

"Hogwarts, I believe," Graves announced. "He's been taking lessons there."

"Lessons?" Theseus echoed. "How can an obscurial-"

"No idea," Graves cut him off. "But apparently, he's a very powerful protégé."

Theseus ran a hand down his face.

"Newt, you idiot," he mumbled. "What have you done?"

"Well, he did smuggle a trafficked Thunderbird into New York," Graves reminded him drily, and Theseus slammed a fist on the table as he stood up to pace the room.

"How did you find out about this?" Theseus asked.

"Auror Goldstein," Graves answered, letting out a sigh of disappointment. "That woman's compassion has made her make choices in the past, without thinking. Your brother only told her about Credence's survival once they were out of the States."

Theseus fought to control himself.

"I'll get one of my aurors to arrest my brother on charges regarding harbouring a fugitive and willfully withholding information from the Ministry," he announced heavily.

"Wait," Graves held up a finger. "Maybe, we can use this to our advantage."

"How do you mean?" Theseus asked.

"We've been trying to find Grindlewald," Graves reminded Theseus. "Maybe now, there's a way we can get him to come to us."

Theseus considered for a moment before seeing where Graves was going with this.

"Grindlewald is looking for obscurials," he nodded in understanding as a triumphant smile began to creep across his face.

"And we have the most powerful one known."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what did you think?_

 _I figured Graves, being the highly skilled Auror that he is would be the one to figure out that Credence is, in fact, still alive. And, while I would love for Tina to remain unscathed, I doubted that would likely happen._

 _I didn't want her to lose her job outright, though, so I had her instead be suspended, and confined to the Leaky Cauldron, until Graves has completed a 'proper investigation' on determining whether Credence is a threat at all._

 _However, with both Theseus and Graves being the highly determined people they are, I highly doubt they would not try and turn this into their own advantage, by seeing Credence as bait to capture Grindlewald._

 _I actually only added that part as a last-minute addition, but the idea just slammed into my head: These two Head Aurors are practically ripping out their hair trying to find this guy. They've discovered that Grindlewald is after obscurials and they've just found the most powerful obscurial ever known is actually alive, right under their noses._

 _And, as Newt advised his brother in chapter 6: "What's Grindlewald looking for?" Newt prompted. "If you can find out what he wants, then locate the areas he'll most likely find what he's looking for," the younger Scamander shrugged, "sooner or later, he'll turn up."_

 _How could Graves and Theseus not try to turn this situation to their advantage?_

 _The only people who would get in their way, of course, are the people who actually care about Credence, such as Tina Goldstein, for example, who is now wandless…_

 _It's interesting, as a writer, how your characters can suddenly add their own plot twists to a story you thought you were in control of…_

 _As for Credence, he may seem slightly out of character in this last section, being a bit more confident than he has been seen to be previously. However, he has been in Britain, learning magic for about a month, I think, by this point in time. He realises he has friends, he's learning magic, has finally got more control over his obscurus, even though he still needs help sometimes to calm down, such as when he needs Dougal's help in this chapter. He's also just recently had his first date with a girl he likes and is probably feeling the most 'normal' he's ever felt in his life._

 _And now, knowing he may be found out, after finally getting a taste of what his life could be like if he were to be left in peace, I think would actually make him more determined to ensure that he can make his dream a reality._

 _The best way to do that, I think he'd imagine, would be to prove he's not a threat. Just as he tried to help 'GrindleGraves' find the obscurial in New York, by looking for a child, when he knew it was actually himself._

 _He is a Slytherin, after all. Cunning and ambition are their defining traits._

 _Note on Newt's patronus: I heard that J.K. Rowling stated that's Newt's patronus was a 'big spoiler'. I made his patronus as a platypus here, as I thought it really did suit Newt's character. But I know it's not really 'spoiler-y'._

 _I was thinking of making his patronus a swan, due to his remaining feelings for Leta ('Leta' I think being a derivative of 'Leda' from the Greek story of 'Leda and the swan,'). However, I didn't think that quite fit, because, though he may still love Leda, she did hurt him, so I doubt Leta would be his happy memory anymore, even if she was, previously._

 _But, I am planning on Newt's patronus changing, much like Tonk's did, later in my story._

 _Okay, I think that enough for now, I've got to go write up the next chapter…_

 _Please leave a review, I do love feedback!_

 _P.S: I just saw the teaser for Fantastic Beasts 2 today!_

 _Spoiler alert!_

 _It'll be called 'Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindlewald.' And there was an accompanying 'photograph' (Wizarding photograph?- they were moving a little) portraying Grindlewald, Queenie, Jacob, Newt, Tina, Theseus, Leta, Credence, a new character- a young woman leaning on Credence's shoulder, and a young Dumbledore._

 _And it'll apparently be coming out on the 14_ _th_ _of November 2018. That's practically a year away! Why do they torment us like this?_

 _Sigh, well, at least we have fanfiction to ease the way…_


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's note: Hi everyone! Happy 2018 and I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. Thank you all so much for the reads and reviews, I love the feedback and I'm so happy that so many of you are liking my ideas and theories so far._

 _Here is chapter 12. This book promotion turned out to be longer to write than I had anticipated, so this is essentially 'part 1' of Newt's book promotion evening…._

 _Hope you like it._

~..~..~..`

Tina paced her room in frustration. Frustration, at least, was better than the nagging fear that was building up in her chest.

She'd been suspended. Surely, it was simply a matter of time before she would lose her job, again.

She'd be finished.

And what about Credence? She wondered, feeling a fresh wave of dread wash over her. He could be locked up, or worse, if he panics upon being confronted by Graves.

And she had no way of warning him. She was forbidden to leave the hotel, and couldn't write to anyone.

She paused in her pacing as she reconsidered that thought.

No, she corrected herself. She was forbidden to leave the hotel _unaccompanied_ , and couldn't write to Newt, Credence or Professor Dumbledore…

She smiled, seeing the loophole Mr Graves had unintentionally given her.

She could write to someone else.

Hurrying to her desk, she gathered quill and parchment.

~..~..~..~..

Batini Imamu was revising her term plan for her third-year students when a tapping sound gained her attention.

Looking up, she spotted an owl at her office window, and let in in with a wave of her hand.

Not recognising the handwriting on the envelope, she opened the letter curiously, her eyes widening as she scanned the parchment.

Getting to her feet, the professor threw a handful of floo powder onto her office fireplace.

"Albus, come quickly!" she called, and in moments, the transfiguration professor was stepping out of the earth, dusting ash off his robes.

"You called, Batini?" He asked.

Batini wordlessly handed him the letter, and a frown appeared on his forehead as he read.

"Thank you, Batini," he nodded in gratitude to his colleague as he sent the parchment up in flames. "However, this does complicate things," he added. "I must away with all haste."

"Of course," the woman nodded her understanding.

"Now, I don't mean to put you in an awkward position, Batini," Dumbledore added quickly, "but it would be best, at least for now, if you did not tell anyone about receiving that letter."

"What letter, Albus?" Batini asked nonchalantly, sitting back down at hr desk and picking up her quill.

Smiling, Albus turned and left through the fireplace.

~..~..~..~..

As the sun began to set, Theseus readied himself to attend his brother's book promotion, as promised.

He and Graves had met the Head Auror of the French Ministry, Sabine Delacroix, earlier that afternoon, and the she had been a complete surprise to both men.

Dressed in a luxurious ice blue and white coat, the woman moved with the grace of a dancer whereas her steely eyes spoke of someone who had fought fiercely to reach her position.

Deputy Head Auror Cousteau, had quietly informed them that Head Auror Delacroix had been nicknamed 'the Wildcat' by the junior aurors.

Delacroix had informed them all that Grindlewald had apparently been impersonating a record keeper at the hospital to gain admittance, and it was only due to a security check that people had noticed the hospital records had even been searched.

She confirmed that it had indeed been Grindlewald who had broken the wards on the hospital, but it had been the attacking obscurus that had destroyed the building, killing its host and several staff while doing so.

Upon learning that the obscurial from New York had recently been discovered to still be alive, and the plan to use him as a draw card, she insisted on observing from a distance before engaging.

"There is no one more desperate than one who is trapped," she reminded the men coolly. "And if this obscurial is as powerful as you claim, then the last thing we need is to back them into a corner."

And so it was, that Aurors Graves, Scamander, Delacroix and Cousteau entered Flourish and Blotts together, along with a few chosen members of their respective teams.

"This actually looks rather impressive," Graves granted, casting his eyes over the large room.

"Are you sure the obscurial will be here, Auror Scamander?" Deputy Cousteau asked.

"Yes," Theseus nodded. "The obscurial seems quite close to my brother, and his creatures. And if he's as good at controlling his power as Auror Goldstein claims, then surely my brother would want him here tonight."

"Let us hope he can control his power, as you say," Delacroix stated, casting her eyes over the number of chairs and tables throughout the room. "For this looks to be a rather large gathering."

"Hello there," a voice greeted and the group turned to see a middle-aged man approaching them extending a hand warmly. "My name is Mr Augustus Worme, of Obscurus books."

'Ironic,' Graves thought drily, given what they were here to find.

Theseus however, smiled at the man and shook his hand.

"Mr Worme, I'm Theseus Scamander, Newt's brother."

"Oh, how lovely to meet you," Mr Worme smiled. "Though I must say, you are here early. The event doesn't start for another hour."

"Oh, we know," Theseus assured him. "But, as Head of the Auror department, I am worried about my little brother, and so wanted to ensure we got here early to help with security."

"Oh, I don't think security would be a large issue tonight sir," Mr Worme stated, though the smile had started to fade from his face slightly in concern.

"Oh, I don't know," Theseus considered. "From the escapades my brother told me he got up to whilst abroad, and the fact he smuggled a trafficked Thunderbird into New York City, makes me think he may have a made a few enemies in his travels. As such," he continued with a smile that, rather than reassuring Mr Worme, actually made him sweat, "I want to make sure that no one enters or leaves this hall without me knowing."

~..~..~..~..

Tina started as a knock sounded on her door. Opening it, she was surprised to find Auror Bennet.

"Bennet," she greeted wearily.

"Can I come in?" He asked. "I really need to speak with you."

"Now's not really a good time, Charles," Tina admitted slowly. "I've been suspended."

"So, it's true then?" He asked, eyes widening. "When the others started talking, I…"

"Yeah," Tina sighed. "It's true. I screwed up again."

Auror Bennet gestured to Tina's room.

"May I…?"

Wordlessly, Tine waved him in, closing the door behind him.

"So, what happened?" Bennet asked.

"I let my heart rule my head, and ignored protocol, once again," Tina admitted tonelessly, not noticing Bennet drawing the blinds closed as she sat down to place her head in her hands.

"I'm finished," she admitted. "I became an auror because I wanted to protect people, and now, I've lost everything I fought for, because I tried to do just that."

"Now, Auror Goldstein," Bennet came to stand in front of her. "From all I've heard about you, that hardly sounds like the attitude I would expect from one such as you."

Tina looked up in confusion in time to see Bennet's form change into that of Albus Dumbledore.

"Mercy Lewis," Tina yelped, springing to her feet.

"Surprise," Albus smiled at the look on the woman's face. "Batini got your letter. Clever thinking, sending it to her."

"How-how…" Tina stammered to which Dumbledore simply raised an eyebrow.

"I teach transifiguration at Hogwarts, Auror Goldstein," he reminded her. "And, if I may say, I am _very_ good at it."

"Bennet?" Tina asked.

"I passed him as he was leaving the Leaky Cauldron," Dumbedore supplied. "He seemed a good man. Now," he continued, becoming more business-like, "you may not have your wand, but I know Credence and Newt will still both need you, tonight. I get the feeling our friends at the Auror office will also find a way to be at Newt's promotion. So, if you want to help ensure Credence stays safe-"

"Mr Dumbledore," Tina began hesitantly, "I'm _suspended_. And Graves already forbade me to contact Newt, Credence or you. If he catches me at the book event…"

"Who said he's going to catch you?" Albus asked and, with a wave of his hand, Tina felt magic envelop her.

Smiling, Albus gestured to the mirror and Tina moved to discover that he'd changed her appearance subtly. Her dark hair was longer, and framed her now heart-shaped face in a cascade of curls.

"Graves had locked your room from the outside," Dumbledore added with a smirk. "So, with him over at the promotional event tonight, he'll never know you're even gone."

Tina turned to the Hogwarts professor.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked. "When I wrote to you, I hoped you could protect Credence, or warn Newt-"

"And so I am," Dumbledore insisted. "Even without your wand, Tina, you are still capable of helping others. And in the events to come, I feel that Credence and Newt will need you more than they realise. Besides," he added with a smile, "I imagine someone from the adventurous Thunderbird house could never settle for sitting on the side-lines."

~..~..~..~..

Queenie led her new husband by the hand as they entered Flourish and Blotts for Newt's book promotion.

"Wow," Jacob smiled, impressed as he looked around the magically enhanced room. "This looks amazing."

"Yeah," Queenie smiled, searching the room for her sister, using both her eyes and her mind. For surely, Tina should be here by now?

However, it was another's mind that caught her attention.

Gasping, Queenie snapped her head around to spy Theseus Scamander standing near the entrance.

She had to be sure…

"Theseus!" She called with a smile, gaining the Head Auror's attention as she guided her husband over to him. "It's great to see you. Newt will be so happy you made it."

"Oh, I'm not so sure of that," Theseus admitted slowly, and Queenie's fears were realised as she saw what was in his mind. "Newt and I don't usually see eye to eye."

"Family's important though," Queenie told him earnestly. "You're the only brother he's got. And, while you don't always agree on how things should be done, you're both focused on trying to do the right thing. And, you're still there for each other. Like you being here to support him, tonight."

Theseus regarded Queenie quizzically for a moment, before his attention was gained by a new arrival.

"Excuse me," the Head Auror said quickly as he moved away.

"Okay," Jacob said aside to his wife. "What's going on?"

Queenie felt her breath shorten as she cast her eyes around the room and spotted Mr Graves. Her eyes then saw a man with a small beard, recognising him from Theseaus' mind: Auror Cousteau. And finally, a woman with blond hair, who Queenie was able to identify as Head Auror Delacroix, thanks to the British Head Auror. Casting her eyes around the room, Queenie spotted other aurors, circling the perimeter of the hall, eyes scanning the faces of the people with suspicion.

"Newt and Credence are in trouble," she whispered.

"What?" Jacob asked in concern. "Why?"

"The Ministry knows Credence is alive. And MACUSA. And the French government," Queenie answered.

"You got that all from Theseus?" Jacob asked, impressed once again, by his wife's talent.

"We have to find Tina," she announced.

"No need, Mrs Kowalski," a voice spoke up lightly. "We've found you."

Jacob turned.

"Mr Dumbledore!" He greeted warmly, shaking the professors hand. "Good to see you again."

"And you as well, my friend." The professor smiled. "And this must be your new wife."

"Yes," Jacob smiled proudly, gesturing to the woman at his side. "This is my wife, Queenie."

"A pleasure," Dumbledore smiled.

But Queenie was focused on the woman at the professor's side, with the heart-shaped face and curly hair. A fact that appeared to amuse the professor greatly.

"Tina," she whispered, studying her sister's disguise carefully before turning her eyes onto the Hogwarts professor.

"You are very good at what you do, Mr Dumbledore," she said.

"Thank you, Mrs Kowalski," Albus smiled proudly. "We couldn't have your sister miss such an occasion as this, now, could we?"

"What?" Jacob asked, trying to keep up.

"Oh, Teenie," Queenie pulled her sister close. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," Tina told her sister, accepting the hug gratefully before turning to Jacob.

"I got suspended when Graves found out Credence was alive and I knew about it," she explained to her brother in law. "He has my wand, and forbade me to leave the hotel."

A smile pulled at Jacob's mouth as his gaze flicked from Tina to Dumbledore and back.

"So, you got a master of disguise to help you out, huh?" He surmised. "Sneaky."

"The Head Aurors from Britain, America and France are all here," Tina informed them urgently.

"Yeah, I saw," Queenie nodded. "I'm having real trouble with the French," she admitted. "I don't speak French."

"When Newt and Credence get here, Credence has to blend in as quickly as possible," Tina continued. "They still don't know what he looks like, but if he does one thing wrong, they'll use that as an excuse to lock him up."

"It's worse than that, Tina," Queenie told her sister. "I saw it in Theseus' head: they _want_ him to lose control. Not here, with so many people around," she added quickly. "But soon."

"Why?" Tina asked. "That would just-"

"Attract Grindlewald's attention," Dumbledore finished, swallowing.

"Speaking of Newt and Credence," Jacob spoke up, glancing around the room as it filled up quickly, "shouldn't they be here by now?"

Albus cast his eyes around the room.

"They should," he muttered. "So, what could be keeping them?"

~..~..~..~..

It was dark, when Newt and Credence apparated to the location stated on the flyer.

"These people were in New York recently," Credence informed Newt in a whisper as they passed a coloured banner displaying 'Arcanus Circus'. "I remember seeing the flyers on the buildings around the city."

"Well, then," Newt muttered. "At least we know we've found the right place."

"So, what do we do, Newt?" Credence asked as he followed him around the back, ducking out of sight behind a large, wooden caravan as someone passed by.

"We need to find where they keep the creatures," Newt whispered, one hand gripping his case tightly.

"They're not far," a voice spoke, and the pair spun around to view Albus Dumbledore standing calmly behind them. "I only saw covered cages though, so I don't know what they have."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Newt queried. "What are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"You are meant to be at your book promotion, Newt," Dumbledore reminded him quietly. "It started half an hour ago, your publisher is almost hysterical. I then thought: what would be the thing that would cause Newt Scamander to give up the opportunity to talk about Magical Creatures? My answer?" Here, Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "Saving magical creatures. I remembered seeing the poster for this circus the other day."

"You know me well, Sir," Newt admitted. "Are you going to make us leave?"

"Leave?" Dumbledore repeated, baffled by the question. "Of course not. I'm here to help. Come on," and with that, he cast a chameleon charm over them, for concealment, before leading them to the creature area, where Newt could identify several caravans, crates and cages that, in his opinion, were likely to be unsuitable for any level of comfort for any magical creature to live in.

"Okay," Newt breathed. "We need to search each one. Quietly. If you see any signs of injury or malnourishment, make a small mark on the side to help us find it, then come find me. We can put the creatures in my case, for safe-keeping."

And with that, he was off, moving quietly to the closest caravan, pressing his ear against the wood, to determine what was inside.

"Spread out," he whispered, gesturing with his free hand.

Dumbledore readied his wand and headed cautiously into the as yet unknown, menagerie, Credence stuck close to him for a while, and soon they found a cage of five scrawny kneazles, one of which looked heavily pregnant, and all of them purred upon sighting them, rubbing against the bars in an effort to get out to them.

"Oh, poor things," Albus crooned as he managed to scratch one behind the ears. "Humans can be such a selfish species, sometimes."

Credence stuck his fingers through the bars of the cage as he marked the side of it using his own wand, scratching the pregnant one under the chin, wondering how they ended up in this condition.

It was a few moments more before he realised Dumbledore had already moved off.

Looking around, he fought the urge to panic at being left on his own, reminding himself that he'd found his way alone on more than one occasion.

Breathing deeply, he decided that, if he kept going in the direction they'd been walking in, he'll eventually come across one of the others.

As Credence walked, he could hear voices coming from somewhere, following the sound, he soon realised it wasn't his friends, but still, while he was too far away to make out the words, the voices sounded sad.

Approaching a cage, Credence lifted a sheet to find a glass tank containing a writhing mass of snakes of varying sizes.

"Oh," he whispered. "You all must be so cramped in there." Even though they were not magical creatures, Credence gave the tank a small mark anyway, sure that Newt would want to help them, regardless of being mundane or magical.

As he returned his eyes to the tank, Credence jumped slightly as all the snakes had lifted their heads and appeared to be staring at him.

"Can you hear me?" He asked. And, in unison, the snakes all nodded.

Credence marvelled, wondering if these were like the half-kneazle kittens. Part magical snake and part ordinary snake. "It's nice to meet you," he whispered. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Again, the snakes nodded.

"They like you," a voice spoke up and Credence spun fearfully to find a woman staring at him calmly. She waved her wand, and Credence felt Dumbledore's concealment spell fade as he became fully visible.

"There you are," the woman whispered. She wasn't very tall. Her head would have barely reached Credence's chin. Her face was gaunt, and her clothes were plain. Her dark brown hair hung limply around her face.

"Who are you?" Credence asked.

"I'm 'The Snake Girl'" the woman answered, gesturing dismissively to a nearby poster portraying a beautiful woman, surrounded by snakes. 'Alluring. Enchanting. Beguiling.' Read the caption.

"Or at least, I was," she amended flatly, and it was only as she moved forward that Credence realised she was heavily pregnant. "I had my last show in America. Apparently, a pregnant woman isn't considered 'appropriate', performing in the circus, so I've been replaced. They were good enough to bring me back home, though, before casting me out. Who are you?"

"No one important," Credence stammered, hoping one of his friends would appear soon.

"The snakes seem to think otherwise," the Snake Girl countered, stepping further forward as curiosity sparked in her black eyes. "And, so do I."

"Why?" Credence asked.

"You've never spoken to a snake before, have you?" The Snake Girl asked.

"No," Credence admitted and the woman nodded.

"That would explain it," she mumbled, appearing to think a bit before meeting his eyes again.

"Who are your parents?" She asked.

"I don't know," Credence admitted. "I was adopted. Why?"

"And you're American? Oh, typical," the woman raised her eyes to the sky. "It had to be the so called 'blood traitor.'"

"What are you talking about?" Credence asked, wondering if he should stay or go. "Why are you asking me all this?

"Because," she stated, "there is a chance that you and I may be related."

Credence blanched.

"Why do you think that?" He asked, slowly, stepping forward.

The Snake Girl considered him, her thin, gaunt face telling the story of a woman who lived a hard life.

"What do you know of Salazar Slytherin?" She asked.

"He's a founder of Hogwarts," Credence answered automatically.

"Good," she nodded. "His direct descendants were the Gaunt family. My father told me stories of the ancient pureblood line. One of them married a wizard who was a descendant of the great Irish witch, Morrigan, and they bore a daughter, Isolt, who eventually left Ireland for America, where she helped to found the American school of Ilvermorny. She married a muggle, a non-wizard," here, her voice became quiet and her eyes far away.

"His name was James." She whispered. "He loved her."

Seeming to shake herself out of a reverie, the Snake Girl continued. "They bore twin girls. One a witch, and one a squib. Their magical daughter, Rionarch, swore never to have children, for she had no wish to carry on Salazar Slytherin's magical line. She apparently didn't know that there were still Gaunts living in Britain." The woman made a huff somewhere between a snort and a sigh before continuing. "Her squib sister, Martha, on the other hand, did marry, and have children. She possibly passed Salazar's legacy down through her own children, until a new magical child would be born of the family line." She smiled. "Just think: A descendant of both Salazar Slytherin and Morrigan… such a powerful lineage."

"Why are you telling me this?" Credence asked. As interesting as he found the history lesson, he didn't see the point of it.

"You can't tell yet?" The Snake Girl asked, her black eyes seemed filled with both pity and longing. "What was Salazar Slytherin most famous for?"

Credence stayed quiet, not knowing how to respond.

"Parsel-tongue," the Snake Girl answered, as if it were obvious. "He was the only known ancient to have the power to talk to snakes."

"He could talk to snakes?" Credence repeated, amazed.

"A very rare gift," The Snake Girl nodded, eyeing Credence pensively. "Isolt had it, too, apparently. That's why she chose the horned serpent to represent her house, she would often speak to the horned serpent that lived in the river near her home. There are rumours her magical daughter had the gift, also. And I imagine, her squib child could have carried on the gift, down the American line."

Credence became still as he considered the woman warily.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked again.

"You still can't tell?" The Snake woman stepped closer. "I'm 'The Snake Girl'." She whispered to Credence slowly. "And you, my possible cousin, have been carrying this entire conversation with me, in parsel-tongue."

~..~..~..~..

Newt crept along the side of the main tent, keeping his ears alert for any sign of creatures in the cages nearby.

"Get the nifflers," a voice hissed nearby, causing Newt to freeze in his tracks. "We've got customers arriving, hurry up!"

Ducking out of sight behind a caravan, Newt peeked out to see a tall man exit the tent, and select one of the many covered cages.

Watching carefully, Newt saw the man uncover the cage to reveal at least five nifflers, crammed into a cage Newt didn't think was big enough for one.

He ground his teeth as the man passed by, upon seeing the deplorable physical condition the nifflers were in.

"Alright, you thieving rats," a voice announced as the man re-entered the tent. "Time to earn your keep. Or at least, get us some extra gold."

Newt gripped his wand tightly.

"Absolutely not," he hissed.

~..~..~..~..

Dumbledore ducked into a side tent to find a large birdcage holding several rather decrepit looking birds.

"Oh, you poor things," he whispered. Using his wand, he quickly unlocked the cage.

A commotion suddenly broke out outside the tent and Dumbledore could see flashes of light as spells were cast.

"After him!" Someone yelled.

A figure burst in and Albus had to refrain from casting a defensive spell as Newt panted, closing his case tightly.

"Professor?" He asked.

"Newt," Dumbledore greeted lightly.

"Oh, phoenixes," Newt spotted the birds in the cage and hurried over with interest. "Many smugglers keep them and harvest their tears to sell on the black market."

"Where's Credence?" Dumbledore asked, causing Newt's head to snap up.

"I thought he was with you?"

~..~..~..~

The sound of yelling caused Credence' head to turn, and he spotted spells flying near the main circus tent.

"Friends of yours?" The Snake Girl asked mildly.

Credence wanted to see if Newt and Dumbledore were alright, but something keep him rooted to the spot.

"I'm trying to find who my parents were," he told the woman urgently. "Do you know who Martha's husband was?"

"Someone from one of the local Indian Tribes," she shrugged. "But rest assured, cousin," she told him. "The very fact you can speak to snakes is enough to tell of your heritage. You, are a descendent of Slytherin and Morrigan."

"You are a descendent of Slytherin too," Credence realised, staring at the woman, who nodded.

"And this will be the newest descendent," she nodded, stroking her swollen belly.

"What's your name?" Credence pressed. "Cousin." A smile pulled at his mouth. 'My first family member by blood,' he realised.

The Snake Girl sighed. "My name, my father would have me carry with pride, though I felt we had long ago lost our dignity." She raised her eyes sadly, and Credence recognised the haunted look in them all too well.

For they were much like his own.

Yes, he realised. She had lived a hard life.

"Merope," she answered eventually. "My name is Merope Gaunt."

~..~..~..~..

Newt had done a quick round of the campsite, doing his best to avoid detection, searching everywhere for Credence, surreptitiously sneaking the marked creatures into his case as he did so.

He and Dumbledore hadn't been able to save the phoenixes as it hadn't been long after he'd burst in that one of the Circus hands had barged in, forcing the pair to split up once again.

Finally, Newt spotted Credence speaking to a woman near a small caravan and hurried over.

"Credence, we have to go," he said in a rush, grabbing his friend's arm and pulling him away.

"Don't worry," the woman called after them. "I saw nothing."

"What were you doing?" Newt asked Credence. "On second thought, never mind," he cut off any reply as he made his way back to the main tent, spying the men searching for them had raced to the outskirts, possibly hoping to cut off their escape.

But Newt wasn't leaving without those phoenixes.

~..~..~..~..

Dumbledore had already doubled back and was carefully removing each bird from the cage when Newt and Credence practically tumbled in.

"They're cutting off our escape," Newt announced. "We need to leave quickly."

"Yes, well, perhaps you shouldn't have let them know we were here," Albus told his student mildly as he worked.

"They were using nifflers to steal from their customers," Newt hissed. "They were in terrible condition, what was I supposed to do?"

"How about now, you focus on our escape?" Dumbledore suggested. "We need a distraction. Something that will make the circus members forget about trying to catch us."

"Right," Newt nodded, casting his eyes around the tent before his eyes fell on the phoenixes. Then, his gaze travelled to the crates that lined the side. Originally figuring them to be animal feed, Newt decided now to actually check them, and smiled when he found the crates were, in fact, full of fireworks.

' _Well, it is coming up to the New Year'_ , he thought to himself.

"I have an idea," he spoke up slowly. "But it's mad."

Albus raised an eyebrow.

"I can do mad," he smiled.

"Everyone grab a couple of phoenixes," Newt announced, and Credence soon found himself with two large birds in his arms.

"So sorry about this," Newt announced, drawing his wand, he pointed it at the crates. "Incendio!"

Grabbing his friends, Newt disapparated.

~..~..~..~..

Newt, Credence and Dumbledore apparated just outside the Leaky Cauldron. Blinking as the lights from the exploding fireworks crates still filled their vision.

"So," Dumbledore announced as he patted his smouldering robes casually, before using his wand to magically rid everyone of soot, ash and singes, "this is what it's like, being a magizoologist?"

Credence stood nearby, attempting to focus on his breathing. He was still trying to absorb the fact that he'd realised he could speak to snakes without ever realising it, had possibly found a distant cousin of his, and had just narrowly escaped burning to death.

Casting his eyes around them, however, Credence realised the large birds he had carried were no longer there. Instead, the three of them were surrounded by ash and, kneeling down, Credence discovered two, tiny chicks at his feet, shaking themselves free of cinders, revealing fluffy red feathers.

He felt his jaw drop as he realised…

' _So this is a phoenix'_ , he smiled in wonder, picking up the two chicks carefully, remembering a phoenix feather made up the core of his wand.

' _Being reborn through fire._ '

"We couldn't just leave them there," Newt insisted, carefully placing his case on the ground and carefully picking up the phoenix chicks closest to him.

"I'm awfully sorry about that," he told the little chicks as he opened his case. "But it was the fastest way I could think of to get you out of there without them seeing you."

"Oh, I wasn't criticising you, Newt," Dumbledore assured his former student as they all descended the stairs into the potting shed. "Actually, I rather enjoyed it: an exhilarating change from the classroom. Not that transfiguration can't get very interesting, of course."

Walking out into the main area of the case, Newt led the way to the occamy area where he and Dumbledore quickly set about constructing a new nest site, while Credence automatically began preparing feed for all the caged creatures they'd taken from the circus. When Dumbledore and Newt had finished, they carefully gathered the tiny chicks, and placed them into their new home. There were five tiny chicks in total, each one sitting on a small nest of ash.

"Here's one group of phoenixes that won't have to live in suffering due to the greed of humans," Newt stated proudly. "I'll take them back to their homeland when I can."

Gently, Dumbledore picked up one of the little phoenix chicks, complete with its soft bed of ash, and gazed in wonder as it snuggled into the grey powder, the tiny feathers sprouting from its head already a vibrant red.

"You truly do some wonderful work, Newt," Dumbledore told his former student in admiration. "Without you, these chicks would have lived their lives in cages, harvested for their tears, and treated without regard for their life, for, if they died, they would simply be reborn again to the same existence. You saved them," Dumbledore smiled proudly. "Because of you, these chicks have a better life ahead of them, now."

Newt felt a blush spread across his face as his old headmaster gently stroked the feathers of the chick he held in his hand.

"Thank you, Sir," he stammered awkwardly. "Though I doubt anyone will be buying my book now."

"Well, I don't know," Dumbledore countered pensively. "You can still make your promotion. And it is nearly New Year's night, so, most likely, the ministry would think it was just people setting off fireworks early, not an undercover smuggling ring blowing up. Besides," he smiled conspiringly, "if they reported it, they'd have to say what was in the tent. And then allow aurors to investigate… They wouldn't want to take the risk of their operation being found out, so, I think you're safe, my friend."

Dumbledore looked up at Newt, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you think all your promotional events will go like this?"

"Oh, I hope not," Newt answered quickly, rather surprised at the blasé attitude of his former teacher. This was certainly a new side to Dumbledore. "Thank you for your help, Credence," he added gratefully to the young man kneeling near the kneazle cage, seeming lost in thought. "And to you, Sir."

"Oh, my pleasure Newt," Dumbledore assured him. "Though I admit, I didn't think attending a promotion for your book was going to go quite like this. It's the most fun I've had in years."

Chuckling, Newt went and got some food for the phoenix chicks and watched as Dumbledore fed the chick in his hand. He appeared to be growing rather attached to it.

"Okay now, little one," Dumbledore told the chick reluctantly once it was fed, "time to go back with your family." Gently, he placed the little chick in the nest with the other phoenix chicks, but, as he turned to leave with Newt and Credence, an urgent, panicked cry came from the tiny chick. Immediately, Newt was picking it up, cradling it, and doing his best to soothe it. But while it did seem to calm down slightly at Newt's gentle touch, the chick made awkward, hopping movements, craning his head as it tried to move towards Dumbledore.

Seeing what the chick wanted, Newt passed it into Dumbledore's hands, and watched the face of his old professor soften as the little chick immediately quietened, fluffed up its downy feathers and settled contentedly in his hands.

"Remarkable," Newt marvelled. "I've never seen a phoenix take to a human like this before."

Dumbledore just seemed lost for words as he regarded the little ball of red and gold fluffy feathers in his hands, the chick now letting out tiny cooing sounds as it slowly closed its eyes.

"You know," Newt began. "If raised well, phoenixes make wonderful pets," he told his old professor. "And this one seems to want to stay with you."

Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"I can keep him?" He asked, his voice betraying the excitement growing in his chest, causing Newt to smile.

"I think it's more: he's chosen you," Newt nodded.

"Oh, _thank you_ ," Dumbledore stoked a finger down the little phoenix's tiny head as they walked carefully back to the potting shed. "Who knows," Dumbledore mused aloud as they made their way back up the stairs and into the chilly night, "having a phoenix at the school may encourage Headmaster Dippet to make Care of Magical Creatures part of the school curriculum. Now," he spoke softly to the little chick in his hands, "what shall I call you?"

As Newt secured his case, he gave Dumbledore a quick introduction to the care of phoenixes as Credence stood quietly to one side, his eyes watching the stars overhead. Newt was just explaining phoenix feeding habits in a natural habitat compared to the domesticated ones he'd seen, when the first fireworks lit up the sky.

Muggle fireworks weren't as spectacular as wizarding fireworks, but they were beautiful, nonetheless, and soon, across the city, fireworks could be seen screaming up to the sky and bursting in a shower of stars.

"Well, the Ministry hasn't arrested me yet," Newt announced. "Maybe they will be able to brush off the smuggling ring as a fireworks display gone wrong." He breathed out a sigh as he gazed up at the sparkling lights in the sky. "With us blowing up a circus, tonight's been more like we're leading up to Guy Fawkes Night, than New Year's," he commented with a smile.

"Guy Fawkes," Dumbledore mumbled, considering the potential.

"Fawkes," he shortened it, testing the sound on his tongue as he looked down at the little chick in his hand. Carefully, he stroked the red and gold feathers on the chick's head, as red and gold fireworks filled the night sky.

Dumbledore smiled.

"Hello, Fawkes."

~..~..~..~

By the time they made it to the book promotion, Mr Worme was completely beside himself.

"Where have you been, Newt?" He demanded as his client rushed in, case in hand, followed by Albus Dumbledore.

"Long story, but I'm here now," Newt answered hurriedly, making his way to the stage.

Here was the part he'd been dreading, but Newt felt he had an idea that would make it more bearable for him, and more effective for everyone else in the hall.

"Attention everybody," Mr Worme called for attention. "I'd like to announce that our guest of honour has _finally_ arrived."

Newt climbed onstage as applause broke out in the hall.

"So sorry, I'm late," he apologised to the room. "However, I did have some urgent business to take care of. Business that, incidentally, relates to the purpose of my book: Fantastic Beasts and where to find them."

Newt used his wand to dispense of the podium and lectern on the stage, using a 'sonorus' charm to magnify his voice so he could be heard by all in the room.

"I have loved magical creatures all my life," he began, "and it always baffled me as to why so many in our wizarding community could not understand why we need to be protecting these creatures, instead of killing them. As I grew up, I realised that the answer lay in one of three categories. Fear. Control. And ignorance. Or a combination," he added thoughtfully, "so I suppose that really makes at least four categories."

Carefully, he lay his case on the ground, in the centre of the stage, for all to see.

"If humans are afraid of something, they usually think they need to get rid of their fear, by getting rid of what they're afraid of. But this mentality is actually highly detrimental. For all of us."

Newt cast a quick barrier spell around the stage, before striding back over to his case and unlocking it.

Gasps and shrieks of alarm spread through the hall as a large black cat, more than three times the size of a lion, jumped out of the case. Inflating an air sack around its neck, the great cat roared, causing people to shrink away from the stage.

"This is my Nundu, Nala," Newt made the introductions as he tossed her a piece of meat he drew from his case, which she settled down to eat on the stage. "I saved her from being hunted whilst in Africa a few months ago. The villagers there felt she was too dangerous, and a threat to their way of life. Granted, Nundu can be fierce predators," Newt explained. "When threatened, they can release a highly toxic poison. However," he continued, "as long as you don't threaten them, by making sure you stay in their line of sight, by staying small, and being quiet, there's really nothing to worry about." Lowering himself, Newt edged his way towards the Nundu slowly as a ripple spread through the hall.

Just as he was about to reach her, however, Nala finished her meat and spotted Newt. Licking her lips, she stood up, as people gasped.

"It is not eradicating our fear, that is the solution, but understanding it," Newt informed as the audience watched with baited breath as the great cat sniffed Newt curiously. "For if we eradicate that which makes us afraid, we will always be afraid. However, if we learn about it," Newt raised a hand slowly to run his fingers along the cat's jawline. "Our lives, minds and hearts can become that much more enriched. For while I was studying Nala, here, I learned something." Newt carefully reached up and ran his fingers along a specific point, just below her ear, and the audience's jaws dropped simultaneously as the large cat promptly lay on the ground, allowing Newt to roll her onto her back.

"She has a sweet spot," Newt grinned as applause rang out, and was thankful he'd put a muffling charm on the spell around the stage so that his creatures wouldn't become upset by the noise.

"But, if I hadn't taken the time required to learn, to understand, Nala, we wouldn't know this about the Nundu." Newt continued, opening his case to let the large cat hop back in before closing it securely.

"Whilst in my year of travel, I not only met many fascinating magical creatures, but also some wonderful people," Newt continued. "There was one village in Africa, that was completely non-magical, and yet what I witnessed there was truly extraordinary: They actually had a symbiotic relationship with their surrounding predators," Newt told the room. "They would leave out the bones from their own hunting expeditions, and hyenas would come from the surrounding plains, to eat. While I was there, the farmers found their crops were being destroyed by some wandering antelope, and so, they actually called out into the wilderness. Within the hour, lions had arrived in the village. The lions got food, and the farmers kept their crops safe. No human in the village had ever been attacked," Newt added. "And seeing this kind of mutually beneficial relationship in the non-magical community, with their own wildlife, makes me wonder why we, as wizards, cannot have the same relationships with our own magical creatures?"

Applause rang out in the hall, but quickly died down as Newt opened his case again, and the audience waited to see what new creature Newt would bring out.

"But fear is not the only issue," Newt continued with his lesson. "Some humans do understand magical creatures, but have so little regard for their life and wellbeing, they will only use them for their own ends."

A chorus of 'awws' went through the hall as Newt brought out a little furry creature from the case.

"This is my niffler," he introduced. "And while he may look adorable, these creatures do not belong in a house. They love shiny things and have a strong collectors drive: meaning they will do everything they can to get their paws on anything shiny."

The niffler picked that moment to break free from Newt's grip and race towards the audience, his eyes wide at spying all the jewellery, cutlery and other sparkly things on display. However, Newt's barrier spell was still in place, and the niffler couldn't get out.

"He's after all the shiny objects he can find." Newt explained, reaching into his pocket before scattering a handful of coins across the stage, and the audience watched as, the niffler abandoned its efforts to break through the barrier, and instead scampered back onto the stage, stuffing the scattered coins into its pouch.

"But it is this collector's drive, that can get the niffler into trouble, and makes humans want to exploit it," Newt explained. "Which brings me to why I was late this evening."

Picking up his niffler carefully, Newt stood back up.

"Earlier this evening," he began, "I encountered a group of people running a travelling circus, mistreating and abusing magical creatures in their care. I also discovered, that they were using nifflers to steal from their customers as they were distracted by the performance." Here Newt reached into his case again and drew out the tiny cage containing the five nifflers.

"Though, of course, their nifflers were not like mine," Newt continued sadly, carefully reaching into the cage to pull out a small niffler, and sounds of sympathy rippled through the hall as they saw how thin and exhausted this new niffler looked compared to Newt's own, which was again, running about the stage and around Newt's feet, trying to find a weak point in the barrier to get out to the audience.

Newt carefully put the new niffler on the ground, where it simply sat there, sadly. Even when Newt held a small coin directly in front of it, the little niffler was hesitant to reach out.

"It's alright, little one," Newt encouraged "This is for you. I won't take it away."

Slowly, the little niffler reached out to claim the coin, looking at Newt uncertainly before placing it in its pouch.

"So, you see," Newt continued, straightening up, "if a wizard abuses a magical creature's natural instinct, it can actually be quite-" He broke off as he realised his own niffler hadn't just tried to steal the coin he'd held out.

"Where's my niffler gone?" He wondered.

A yelp of "my bracelet!" came from the audience as a woman clutched her wrist.

"Oh, no," Newt sighed before pointing his wand.

"Accio!"

The niffler came flying through the air, jewellery, watches and cutlery flying out of its pouch, before becoming stuck in Newt's barrier spell.

"So sorry," Newt apologised to the audience as he jumped off stage to extract his niffler. "I must've missed a spot." He looked at his niffler accusingly. "What did you take?" He demanded.

The niffler stared at him with large eyes.

"Don't give me that innocent look," Newt told him as muffled laughter at the exchange began to ripple through those gathered. "Give it all back."

The niffler placed his paws protectively over his pouch.

"Fine," Newt stated. Turning the niffler upside down, he began tickling the creature's stomach, and soon, a small pile of broaches, bracelets, watches, headbands and various cutlery fell out onto the floor.

"So sorry, he's incorrigible," Newt apologised again as he climbed back on stage. "Please, if anyone's missing anything," he gestured to the niffler's pile of stolen goods and soon, calls of 'accio' were echoing through the hall as items returned to their owners.

"But that," Newt explained, "is why nifflers do not make good pets," he withdrew a final coin from his pocket as a peace offering for his niffler before placing all the nifflers back into his case and withdrawing one last cage.

"However," Newt continued, "while abusing a creature's natural instincts is detrimental, it is possible to have a creature's instincts work with you. Some of you may be familiar with these," he opened the cage and the five kneazles slowly walked out.

"These kneazles were also amongst the creatures I found tonight, being kept in appalling conditions," Newt explained, as more gasps of sympathy rippled through the hall at their thin, mangy bodies. "Kneazles are highly intelligent, and are very good at reading people. They can tell the difference between an honest person and an unscrupulous person," he informed the hall and another ripple went through the people gathered, though this time, there was a worried note to it.

"I have actually enlisted a couple of kneazles at the ministry already," Newt continued. "They are very good at staying hidden, if needed, and can smell deceit from across the room." This time some in the audience were giving each other wary glances.

Kneeling down, Newt was soon surrounded by Kneazles, rubbing themselves affectionately against him, purring.

"Unlike the niffler, however, kneazles can make excellent pets." Newt told the audience. "However, they can be quite striking, and can attract muggle attention. But not to worry," he assured the hall, "they can interbreed quite well with house cats, and so you can get a cat that looks ordinary, but has the mind of a kneazle." He smiled as he opened his case for the last time, allowing the kneazles to file inside, before securing it once more.

"The creatures I've introduced to you this evening, are only an example of the number of creatures I introduce in my book." Newt concluded as he regained his feet, case in hand. "And the creatures in my book are but a fraction of the extraordinary array of magical creatures that exist out there in the world, for I'm sure there are many I am yet to encounter. And I hope that this small introduction tonight has taught you something new, or helped encourage a greater appreciation for the wonderful creatures we share this world with. And I hope, in turn, my book: 'Fantastic Beasts and where to find them', will show future generations of wizards that these amazing creatures who share our world with us should be treated only with respect."

Taking a breath, Newt gave a small bow.

"Thank you all for coming."

Applause and cheering rang out and Newt was actually taken aback by the intensity of it. Searching the audience, he spotted Queenie, Jacob, and Dumbledore, standing together as a group, applauding him proudly.

Newt frowned.

Where was Tina?

~..~..~..~..

Down in Newt's case, Credence set about returning all the animals to their designated habitats. Dumbledore had quickly informed them of all the Head Aurors being at the book event, but they'd only had time for Credence to get back into the case before they'd made it to Flourish and Blotts.

Still, at least Credence could help Newt out with his presentation by sending the creatures he required up through the case safely.

Now, however, he put the now empty cages aside and began doing another check up on the new creatures. Making sure Newt's niffler was being nice to his new room-mates, and rubbing dittany into the kneazles scab-covered skin.

He had heard Newt's description of a Kneazle's ability to tell a good person from a bad person, so as the cat-like creatures purred around him, Credence couldn't help but feel a sense of relief.

If the kneazles liked him, that must make him good, right?

However, as he gave the creatures their last feed for the night, Credence's gaze wondered up to the cave enclosure, where the Runespoor enclosure was.

Credence had never been allowed up to that enclosure, as Newt had explained that the three-headed snake could be very temperamental, and required expert handling.

However, after what he'd discovered about himself this evening, Credence wondered if he'd be able to talk to the runespoor, like he'd spoken to the snakes at the circus.

Isolt Sayer had apparently spoke to a Horned Serpent, he reminded himself. So, he reasoned, a parsel-tongue can speak to magical snakes, as well as non-magical.

Taking a deep breath, Credence cast his eyes over the creatures in the case. They were all in their habitats, getting ready to sleep for the night.

And, apparently, it was unsafe for him to be out at the moment, lest he get arrested…

Credence's gaze drifted over to the entrance to the runespoor enclosure once more.

He had to know…

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what did you think?_

 _This is one of those chapters where I had written parts of it at an earlier stage, and now the story has caught up with my ideas. There have been a couple of changes to the plot since I'd originally written some of the scenes in this chapter, but I think I managed to merge everything well enough, but if anyone has any tips, on how I can improve, please let me know._

 _Head Auror Delacroix I had spent a bit of time thinking about, as I was trying to come up with her character in a bit more detail before introducing her._

 _Sabine Delacroix (Sabine means 'catlike woman') is a half blood auror- father is muggleborn and mother a pure blood.) She's very powerful, capable of performing wandless magic on par with Graves, which is partly how she got her job as an auror in the first place. She is the first female Head Auror her government has had._

 _Sabine is known as 'wildcat' not just in reference to her name, but for her ferocity in duelling as well as her love of luxury, using her clothing to showcase power as well as elegance. She was made to learn ballet as a child to learn perseverance and the control of one's self and plays the violin to help herself think. Her patronus is a Snow Leopard._

 _So, that's my newest character._

 _I had thought that Tina would write to Queenie, who would get her out, but then I thought she'd write to Batini, as she ould contact Dumbledore, who was in a better position to do something about the situation, I think. And I can totally see him changing Tina's appearance to help her get out, as he's always seemed to have a rather 'up yours' attitude towards authority when he doesn't see it as being justified._

 _Besides, I couldn't just have her sitting in her room, wringing her hands. She's an auror, and a Thunderbird: she would want to be out there, protecting Credence anyway she can, with or without her wand._

 _Though I worry what Graves will do if he finds out…_

 _Okay, now, I've believed the idea that Credence is a descendent of Isolt Sayre for a while, but that would also mean that Credence is a descendent of Slytherin as well._

 _And, after reading 'Half Blood prince' and finding out about Merope Gaunt's backstory, and how Tom Marvolo Riddle was born on the 31_ _st_ _of January 1926, (the same year the first Fantastic Beasts movie was set,) it just seemed too much of a coincidence to me. So, while I doubt they'll actually have Merope herself appear in the sequel, I really wanted to show Merope in my story. After all, I think Merope and Credence actually have very similar stories of abusive upbringings, made to feel as though they were lesser than they were, and wanting to find love and affection elsewhere, and only truly being free to do so once they were finally free of their respective families._

 _I wanted them to meet at least once, so both could see they were not really alone._

 _I remember in HBP, that the Matron of the orphanage Merope goes to in order to have Tom is surprised upon hearing his middle name 'Marvolo,' and makes the comment 'I wondered if she'd spent time in a circus' or some derivative of that._

 _As such, upon learning that a wizarding circus was to be featured in the Fantastic Beasts movie, I figured it would be an opportune moment for Merope to make a cameo before she gives birth. We don't actually know much of what happened to Merope after Tom Riddle Snr left her, so, she may well have travelled to try and escape her sorrows and joined a circus to make money, finding out she was pregnant in the process? I had seen images of 'The Snake Girl' (before I'd found out about the new girl appearing in the cast, who is apparently cursed to eventually turn into a beast) and so thought an obvious idea for someone like that would be a parsel-tongue. And Merope Gaunt was the only parsel-tongue I knew of who existed at this time._

 _I wanted Credence to find out about his heritage, not just his parentage. But, it would be difficult to do that through research alone, so I imagined that, much like Harry learning he could talk to snakes by speaking to the snake at the zoo, I had Credence interact with the 'Snake Girl's' snakes before meeting the original 'snake girl' herself._

 _Does that make sense?_

 _Now, I had wondered how Dumbledore had originally got Fawkes, and when I got the idea of Newt rescuing phoenixes from the circus, I had to include Dumbledore getting Fawkes. I've heard some people saying that Newt gave Dumbledore Fawkes, but I've always had the impression that Phoenixes are the ones that choose which humans they stand by, so I instead had Fawkes choose Dumbledore, after he helped save him from the black-market smugglers at the circus._

 _Now as to the book promotion itself, I admit, I'm quite proud of Newt's presentation. (I had Newt call his Nundu Nala, as I remembered Eddie Redmayne saying in an interview that, after seeing 'The Lion King' as a boy, he had a 'weird obsession with Nala'.) I had debated on whether to have Credence be in the hall or in the case, and I figured, with Dumbledore there, why would he not tell them of the Aurors' presence? So, I felt Credence would have ended up being in the case. But, being a slytherin, and learning what he has about himself, I can see him wanting to go deeper to try and find out more about his ability to talk to snakes, by experimenting with the runespoor in Newt's case._

 _The next chapter (part 2 of Newt's book promotion evening) will be a little difficult for me to write, I believe, as the Aurors have found out about Credence sooner than I'd anticipated- when I had originally visualised this scene, Credence was there and Tina was herself._

 _But now, there are a few complications, and while there are many people in the room, and Graves is looking for those who possibly wouldn't belong, I am now starting to worry about Queenie, as Graves knows she is a legilimens…_

 _Now, he hasn't spotted her yet, being focused as he is on the other guests, and it was Theseus by the door when she entered, however, I'm a little worried about how Graves will react when he eventually sees her at the event._

 _Now, finally, in the next chapter, I hope to introduce Leta Lestrange, who I had hoped to bring in a couple of chapters ago, but things just kept taking longer to get through than anticipated._

 _Alright, I think the main aspects of the chapter have been covered, please let me know if you have any questions._

 _Please review!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's note: Hello everybody! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update this story, but, as many of you have commented, there are a lot of wild cards. There was a while when I just couldn't write, and then when I began, I had to try and take all the different perspectives of the characters I to account and… yeah, this was a difficult one._

 _So, I hope it was worth the wait! Please enjoy chapter 13._

~..~..~..~..

"Well done, Newt," Jacob and Queenie were the first of his friends to greet him as he stepped down from the stage.

"Thank you," Newt smiled, casting his eyes around him.

"I must say, Newt," Dumbledore smiled as his former student, "your presentation alone, I think, will ensure that wizards begin to think differently about our magical creatures."

"Thank you, sir," Newt nodded in gratitude. "I really appreciate that."

"Tina's here, Newt," Queenie assured him with a smile as the wizard once again searched the hall.

"Where?" Newt cast his eyes around the room again.

"Right here," Dumbledore gestured to a woman by his side with a heart-shaped face, which caused Newt some confusion, until he recognised the turquoise and silver dress she wore.

"Tina?" He queried.

"Hi Newt," she greeted with a smile, and Dumbledore quickly removed the spell, revealing Tina's true guise.

"Tina!" Newt exclaimed in delight as he stepped forward to greet her, relieved that she had, in fact, been able to attend the event. "I'm so glad you came."

"Photo for the Daily Prophet, Mr Scamander!" A reporter called cheerily as he gained Newt's attention and the magizoologist had to contend with the flash of a camera for a few moments.

Once the reporter left, he was able to refocus.

Dumbledore returned Tina's disguise the moment the camera was gone, berating himself.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Goldstein," he told her earnestly.

Newt frowned as worry set in.

"Why was Dumbledore disguising you?" He asked Tina in concern. "What's happened?"

"I've been suspended," Tina admitted slowly. "For not telling Graves that Credence was alive."

"Suspended?" Newt echoed.

"I've lost my wand," Tina nodded.

"Oh, Tina, I'm so sorry," Newt knew how much her job meant to her. "You probably shouldn't have come," he said slowly. "I'd hate for you to get in further trouble."

"I'm not staying in the hotel, wringing my hands, while Credence is in danger," Tina hissed and Newt couldn't help a smile pulling at his mouth.

"Where is Credence, anyway?" Tina asked anxiously.

"He's in the case," Newt assured her, gesturing to the item in his hand.

"Newt," Mr Worme greeted gladly as he joined the group. "Wonderful presentation, my good man. I told you that you could do it!"

"Thank you, Mr Worme," Newt nodded. "I apologise profusely for my lateness."

"Oh, that story you told about the circus you found has actually caused a stir amongst the reporters," Mr Worme told him gladly. "I overheard them saying they were hoping you could help them do an exposé. Now I'm sorry to have to take you away from your friends, Newt," he became more business-like, "but there are some people you must speak with, that will help you get your book, and its message, to a wider audience."

Newt sighed.

"I would much rather-" he began, clutching his case closer, but his publisher cut him off.

"Newt, if you want the mindset of the public to change regarding magical creatures, you need to get the word out to as many as possible, and that will require support," Mr Worme said firmly. "Now, you can keep your case under the stage, for safekeeping-"

"What?" Newt yelped.

"You can't carry that with you the whole night," Mr Worme told him. "You need to shake hands, drink, socialise…"

"Maybe one of us could carry Newt's case for him?" Tina suggested.

"Brilliant," Newt agreed, but Mr Worme intercepted and claimed the case.

"Don't worry, Newt," he assured his client as he slid the item under the stage. "We have many aurors in the room at the moment, no one will be able to touch your case without being seen."

'Unless the aurors are the ones touching the case,' Newt considered, but felt he couldn't protest further without, at best, showing he was overly protective of his case, and, at worst, arousing suspicion as to why he didn't want it out of his sight.

"Very well, Mr Worme," Newt agreed reluctantly

"Excellent," the man cheered, and took him by his now free arm with enthusiasm. "Now, come meet the owners of Flourish and Blotts…"

~..~..~..~

Credence approached the Runespoor cave enclosure with caution. He wasn't quite sure what he expected to happen, but he knew he needed to try this.

As he got closer, he felt his heartrate increase as he trained his ears on the slightest sounds.

Newt had told him not to come here, he reminded himself.

Credence swallowed, mentally feeling the lash of the belt, and he clutched his hands to his chest reflexively as he tried to breathe through his rising fear.

'Newt is not like Ma', he reminded himself, but still, he felt a whimper escape, unbidden, from his lips.

Credence jumped slightly as he felt something touch his arm, and he opened his eyes to see Dougal, the demiguise, standing at his side, one large hand touching him, as if to give reassurance.

"Dougal," Credence crouched low to wrap the creature in a hug that was warmly reciprocated.

"Thank you," he told the demiguise gratefully as he released his hold, turning to look once more at the cave opening.

"Do you think Newt would be mad at me for doing this, Dougal?" Credence asked.

As if in answer, Dougal's eyes began to glow blue, indicating he was having a vision. It only lasted a few moments though, and once they returned to their normal warm, dark brown, Dougal gently pushed Credence towards the cave opening.

Figuring that was a positive answer to his question, Credence took a deep breath and entered the cave.

As he carefully entered the cave, much like at the circus, Credence could hear voices speaking indistinctly ahead of him. It was only when he had stepped far enough to realise the light had dimmed greatly, that he realised Dougal had become invisible, despite still feeling the creature's hand in his own.

" _A human is here,"_ a voice announced, causing Credence to freeze. _"I can hear their heart beat."_

" _Who is it?"_ A second, sleepy-sounding voice asked, and Credence heard a sound, that was like something being dragged over stone. _"The Caregiver?"_

" _No, it's another, can't you tell?"_ A third voice answered irritably. _"This one's different."_

Credence swallowed nervously as the dragging sound increased in volume and slowly, a large snake, coloured with striking black and orange markings slithered into view. Upon spying Credence, the three heads rose up smoothly, to stare him straight in the eye.

" _See?"_ The head on the right spoke up. _"I told you it wasn't the Caregiver!"_

" _Oh, I think I've seen him,"_ the middle head opened its mouth wide, as if yawning.

" _Really?"_ The head on the right said sceptically. _"Where, in one of your visions?"_

" _No, down in the bowtruckle area,"_ the middle head explained patiently. " _I saw him through a crack in the rock_."

" _What is he doing here?"_ The head on the left asked, leaning forward, flicking out a tongue curiously.

Credence swallowed.

"H-hello," he said quietly, but the reaction was instantaneous.

" _He is a parseltongue!"_ The left head yelped in surprise.

" _No, really?"_ The right head asked sarcastically. _"I couldn't tell by the way he greeted us in our own language!"_

" _How did you do that?"_ The middle head wondered vaguely.

"I don't know," Credence admitted slowly, still trying to process the fact he was actually speaking to a snake. And a three headed one at that. "I only just found out earlier today. Maybe I'm cursed with more than an obscurus?"

All three heads began hissing together, the sound echoing off the cave walls.

" _You are the Shadowed one, we've heard the other creatures tell of?"_ The right head asked.

"I-I suppose," Credence nodded.

" _Do you really not like being able to talk to snakes?"_ The middle head wondered.

"I was brought up to believe snakes represented evil," Credence admitted and all three heads began to hiss in unison once, offended.

" _I'm the one with the venom,"_ the right head suggested, slowly leaning forward. _"I could just bite him."_

The other two heads turned on the right one.

" _You will not bite!"_ The one on the left hissed as the middle one nipped it in the neck in reprimand. _"The Caregiver would not accept it!"_

The left head turned its gaze back onto Credence as the middle head stayed focused on the right head.

" _Why are you here, human?"_ The left head asked.

Credence swallowed.

"I want to know more about who I am," he admitted slowly. "About _what_ I am."

~..~..~..~..

Newt wanted to hide in a corner, or simply leave, as he often did in large social events, but, as this one was a promotional event for his book, he was obligated to shake hands with everyone from the owners of Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley, to the owners of various pet food companies. He had to mingle with everyone from the wizarding upper class to the serving staff.

He cast his eyes over the room to where Queenie, Tina and Jacob stood, talking to his parents. His mother, of course had approached Newt as soon as she could and told of how proud she was of his saving the mistreated creatures at the circus. His father, of course, said it was a miracle he didn't get arrested by the many aurors that were in the room due to his acts of vandalism at the circus earlier, and that he should have more respect for his guests than to arrive as late as he did.

Newt had simply said that it was the circus owner who deserved to get arrested and thanked his parents for coming.

Theseus had approached him soon after, offering his obligatory congratulations.

"I'm surprised to see so many aurors here tonight, Theseus," Newt stated, wanting to know what his brother would tell him. "Your doing, I suspect?"

"You can never be too careful," Theseus answered measuredly, in a way Newt knew, from over the years, meant he was trying to avoid a particular answer. "And after your exploits tonight, you'll likely be glad I did, lest you get attacked by the circus owner when you leave here."

"Are you going to arrest me for that?" Newt asked. "Father's already given his approval."

"Oh, if I'm going to arrest you tonight, Newt, it won't be for freeing mistreated circus creatures," Theseus told him.

Newt swallowed, aware that now Theseus and Graves knew Credence to be alive, he'd need to be careful to keep the boy safe until he was ready.

"Tina should be here, amongst Grave's team," Newt felt a distraction from him would be a good start. "Why isn't she?"

Newt held his breath. Did Theseus realise Newt knew of Tina's suspension and the reason for it?

And, if not, he wondered, would his brother tell him?

Theseus swallowed. "No idea," he answered slowly. "I had thought she'd be here, too, to support you."

Newt clenched his jaw, his brother's lie answering both his questions.

"Thank you for coming to support me and my work, Theseus," Newt told him, doing his best to keep his voice level. "But I know you have more important things to do tonight."

"Are you kidding, brother, mine?" Theseus smiled as he placed a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "I don't think there's anywhere else in the world I should be, then right here."

Thankfully, Mr Worme had pulled Newt away at that moment to speak to Professor Dippet, to whom Dumbledore was enthusiastically showing his new phoenix, in order to talk about the possibility of adding Care of Magical Creatures to the Hogwarts school curriculum.

Newt cast his eyes around the room once more, trying to locate Tina again, finding her and Queenie standing with Jacob, watching the proceedings from the side-lines.

Theseus surely knew of Tina's suspension, for Graves would have told him how he found out about Credence, Newt figured. Still, his brother's lie clearly showed he had yet to realise Tina had made Dumbledore aware and, in turn, himself.

Either that, or Theseus just wanted to try and keep Newt in the dark as much as possible.

He sighed, feeling his head spinning from all the secret agendas. He was a Hufflepuff, for crying out loud!

He tried to catch Tina's eye from across the room but failed. Her disguised face really didn't suit her, he thought after a moment. Not that Dumbledore's spell wasn't believable, for it certainly was. But the heart shaped face and curly hair just wasn't _Tina_.

Although, Newt mused, that was rather the point of a disguise.

Still, Newt was glad Tina still wore her maid of honour dress, for it made it easier for him to spot her in the crowd of traditional black and white that filled the room.

Sighing, he allowed Mr Worme to pull him further into the sea of monochrome and sparkle to speak to yet more 'people of influence.'

It was as he was discussing ways to improve things in the Magical Beasts division with a couple of ministry officials, that he happened to glance away and saw something that made his breath catch in his throat.

Or, should he say, some _one_.

Leta Lestrange was standing next to a poster depicting the cover of his future book, studying it with interest. Glancing around, she caught his eye and smiled.

"Excuse me," he said to his group and moved away to the refreshment table. He needed to distract himself.

Taking up a glass of chilled champagne, Newt took a gulp, trying to calm down his nerves.

It had been a long time ago, he reminded himself. He hadn't seen her since they were teenagers.

But still, Newt couldn't believe she'd actually come.

So why did seeing her make him feel like this?

"Hello, Newt."

Starting, Newt turned to see Leta Lestrange standing before him, resplendent in a dress of black and silver, with a black feather fascinator adorning her dark hair.

Newt swallowed as Leta smiled fondly.

"It's been a long time," she said. "I've missed you."

~..~..~..~..

Queenie was standing near Tina, who she was passing off as her friend 'Clara' to the acquaintances they'd encountered so far, and as Newt's parents moved off after Mrs Scamander had to check on them for the third time to ensure they were enjoying themselves, Queenie felt anxiety begin to fill her as she caught Newt's mind.

She'd been keeping her legilimancy focused on the aurors, in case anyone noticed anything amiss, and was doing her best to avoid Mr Graves, wherever possible.

But when Newt's emotions changed suddenly, she focused her attention on him, and felt a whole different level of anxiety.

"Uh oh," she whispered.

"What is it?" Tina asked. "Is it Graves?"

"No," Queenie admitted, turning to look at her sister in sympathy.

"Leta Lestrange is here," she told her.

~..~..~..~..

Theseus was getting frustrated.

He'd been sure that Newt would want to have all his close friends attend his book promotion. He'd seen Queenie and Jacob when they arrived, and figured Tina hadn't been able to make an appearance due to her suspension… he felt a flash of guilt for not telling Newt about it, who clearly was anxious about Tina's lack of appearance, and realised he may need to console his brother on that account, due to his clear growing interest in the woman.

He sighed. Why did his brother always seem to choose women who made his life difficult?

Shaking his head slightly to refocus, Theseus cast his eyes over the guests again.

"Well Scamander?" Graves asked quietly as he approached. "See anything?"

"I was sure the obscurial would be here," Theseus stated. "Perhaps the boy is still at Hogwarts? We should send a team there, while Dumbledore, Dippet and Newt are here."

"Not without a warrant," Graves countered, his eyes spotting Dumbledore. "Besides, Dumbledore is no fool. Perhaps they've found out we know, and are working together to hide him?"

"The only person we saw Dumbledore enter the room with was Newt," Theseus reminded Graves.

Graves frowned, thinking, as he cast his eyes around the room again. Spotting Newt's case under the stage, he got an idea.

"If Newt could smuggle a thunderbird into New York in his case…" he began, meeting Theseus' eyes.

"Why wouldn't he hide the Obscurial inside it?" Auror Scamander nodded his understanding.

~..~..~..~..

"Uh, oh," Queenie breathed. " _Now_ it's Theseus and Graves."

"What is it?" Tina asked.

"They've been trying to find Credence in the crowd, and, unable to find him, they'd decided to try sneaking into Newt's case, now that he's not carrying it." The blond explained.

"I'll go get it," Jacob volunteered. "Tina can't risk exposing her disguise, and we don't know if Graves has spotted Queenie yet."

Without further ado, the baker began making his way through the crowd towards the stage, hoping to reach the case before the two aurors could.

"Wait," Tina hissed, too late. "Getting the case now might make them more suspicious…" she trailed off.

"It'll be okay, Tina," Queenie tried to reassure her sister as she herself kept flitting from mind to mind, searching for any sign of danger.

She was starting to get a headache from tracking so many people in a crowded room, but, she told herself, she had Credence, her husband, Newt and her sister to take care of.

'In more ways than one,' Queenie admitted to herself, as her gaze landed on where Newt stood, talking to the woman in black, who's picture, she knew, he still kept in his case.

~..~..~..~..

"Leta," Newt swallowed as he regarded the woman before him. "How have you been? I haven't seen or heard from you since…"

"Newt, I'm so sorry about not contacting you," Leta stepped forward, her eyes pleading. "You know my family: the moment they heard you were expelled, they forbade me making any contact with you, for fear of 'dirtying my reputation.' Their words," she explained with a sigh, stepping closer. "I never even got a chance to thank you for what you did for me. It was one of the kindest, and bravest things I'd ever seen. And I'm so sorry you've been through so much trouble, since then, because of me."

Newt sighed with relief. He knew Dumbledore had been wrong. He knew the reason Leta hadn't contacted him over the years was due to no fault of her own.

"That's why, when my family received an invite to your book promotion, I came, despite their objections," Leta smiled at him. "I wanted a chance to see you, to see you live your dream of working with magical creatures, and to finally have a chance to tell you how proud I am of you."

The woman lowered her eyes and Newt felt his throat tighten at the sadness he saw there.

"I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but-"

"It's alright, Leta," Newt assured her automatically. "I admit, I had my doubts over the years, but to hear you tell me in your own words is… well," he smiled, "let's just say, I'm glad I made the right judgement."

Leta smiled, before reaching out to place a hand on his cheek fondly, taking him by surprise.

"So sorry," she said, quickly stepping back in contrition. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's alright," Newt assured her, straightening his coat nervously, hoping the reporters were too busy taking pictures of the wizarding elite to pay attention to them.

"The creatures you presented on stage were extraordinary," Leta complimented him. "What other creatures do you have?"

"Almost too many to count," Newt admitted and Leta smiled.

"I'd love to see them," she prompted.

"Certainly," Newt agreed without thinking, before berating himself. He couldn't allow anyone into his case with Credence in there. "But perhaps not tonight," he amended apologetically.

The woman before him eyed him curiously.

"Come with me," Leta invited, reaching out to take Newt's arm. "There are some people I want to introduce you to."

~..~..~..~..

"Where's Newt?" Tina asked Queenie in concern.

Her sister scanned the audience carefully, before pointing.

"There."

Tina turned to see Newt escorting a woman dressed in black and silver and immediately felt her stomach clench.

Leta Lestrange.

The woman looked even more stunning in real life than in her photo.

"What can you get from Leta?" Tina asked warily.

"Not much," Queenie admitted reluctantly. "I don't know her mind, and it's too crowded in here for me to pin her mind down easily."

"What _can_ you get?" Tina pressed.

"It's strange," the blond admitted as she tried to concentrate. "It's not occlumency, but… it's almost like she has a smokescreen up."

"You keep an eye on Jacob," Tina told her. "I'll keep an eye on Newt."

~..~..~..~..

The French Head Auror, Delacroix, felt there really was something to be said for the importance of perception. Her own aurors, who, while some were lacking in English skills, were nevertheless skilled at observation. And they had noticed the blond woman and her brunette companion acting, not like guests, but as if they were scanning the crowd themselves. It was only after questioning some of the British and American team members that they realised that these women were not, in fact, Aurors. The blond was the sister of one of Graves' Aurors, but no one seemed to know who the brunette was.

Although, the American Auror, Harcourt, had said the dress the brunette was wearing looked familiar.

"People do shop can the same store, you know, Harcourt," the American Auror, Bennet, quipped. "Now, for once, can you keep your eyes on the job?"

"Familiar how, Auror Harcourt?" Delacroix pressed the young man as Auror Bennet moved away.

"Well, Queenie, she's a woman you just don't forget," Harcourt gestured towards the blond. "You know she married a no-maj?" He shook his head, incredulous. "That woman could've had any fella she wanted, and she picks a no-maj."

"Familiar _how_ , Auror Harcourt," Delacroix pressed more firmly, and the young auror appeared to finally remember who he was speaking to.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he lowered his eyes. "It's just, on Queenie's wedding day, her sister Tina-"

"One of your team?" Delacroix queried.

"Yeah," Harcourt nodded. "Goldstein was Queenie's maid of honour, and she wore that same dress. I almost didn't recognise her," Harcourt admitted. "she looked like a whole different person, you know?"

Delacroix cast her eyes back to the woman in the turquoise dress as she walked across the room, towards Newt Scamander, the man of the evening.

"And Auror Goldstein is close to Mr Scamander, _ou_ _Í_?" Delacroix asked.

Harcourt shrugged. "I suppose. He saved her life, a few months ago, and it was because of him she got back on the team."

Delacroix nodded, her suspicion growing.

" _Merc_ _Í_ , Auror Harcourt," the woman said dismissively as she made her way over to where her American and British counterparts were in discussion.

"Gentlemen," Delacroix greeted, gaining their attention. "I need to ask you some questions about one of your aurors."

"Which one?" Theseus asked.

"Auror Tina Goldstein," Delacroix stated.

"She's suspended, and not here," Graves answered impatiently. "I think she can wait for now. What we need," Graves turned back to Theseus, "is to find the obscurial."

"We can't just break into my brother's case," Theseus told Graves.

"We don't need a warrant if we have probable cause," Graves reminded the British Auror.

"But knowing my brother, he could have any manner of creatures in that case," Theseus cautioned. "We have no idea what we could be walking into."

"The both of you are too eager," Sabine Delacroix warned them. "Patience is necessary. For the last thing we want is to make a scene with all these reporters in place. Which we will do," she added, "if the obscurial is taken by surprise."

Graves sighed in frustration. They needed the obscurial… or information… _something_ that would lead them to Grindlewald.

"I suppose that's true," he admitted through gritted teeth. The key to reaching Grindlewald was here, he knew it.

So close, yet Delacroix really did have a point. If they broke into the case now, and the boy was there, the obscurus could be let loose and kill who knows how many people.

That would surely gain Grindlewald's attention, to be sure, but still, Graves didn't want to cause any unnecessary deaths, especially with reporters all present to document the whole thing.

"We stay away from the case,"Auror Scamander stated, backing up Auror Delacroix's suggestion. "And we focus on gathering information. If not about Grindlewald, then at least about the obscurial. We need to know the best way to approach him, so he'll do what _we_ want."

"You're sounding like your brother," Graves muttered before letting out a resigned breath.

"Speaking of _Monsieur_ Scamander," Delacroix interjected, "I want to know of his connection with your Auror Goldstein."

"Why?" Graves asked.

"Because I suspect she might be here, acting as protection," Delacroix stated. "Perhaps she is the reason the boy is not here."

"Why do you think that?" Theseus asked.

"Tell me about your auror, _Monsieur_ Graves," Delacroix demanded.

Graves sighed.

"She's a good Auror," he admitted. "She'll do practically anything for a cause. But she lets her heart rule her head too often. Let's her compassion make her act recklessly or go against the rulebook. She's let it risk her job more than once. In fact," Graves amended, "she actually did lose her job a while ago. The obscurial we're looking for? He's from an abusive family. And Goldstein attacked his mother in full view of the public when she began beating him on the street."

"Really?" Theseus raised his eyebrows, having not heard that story before. "Remind me not to get on her bad side."

"Oh, yes, she's a good dueller," Graves nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "She just needs to learn to stop thinking with her heart all the time."

Delacroix nodded. Her suspicions confirmed.

"So, if she were to be suspended for hiding this abused boy, who she feels needs protecting, do you think she would be the type of woman to stay away?" Delacroix asked, raising an eyebrow.

Graves began to frown as the implication of Delacroix's query sank in.

"Why do you ask?"

"I was speaking to Auror Harcourt," Delacroix explained, "who said he saw Auror Goldstein's sister, and a dark-haired woman wearing the same dress he'd seen Goldstein in. So, owing to the fact that this woman is extremely protective, I can easily imagine that she would be here to ensure the boy's protection, as well as keeping an eye on _Monsieur_ Scamander, who apparently saved her life, and helped her get her job back."

Graves' stare became more focused.

"Did you say Tina's _siste_ r had been seen here?" the American Auror demanded as he quickly scanned the room once more. "How did I not see her?"

"What is it _Monsieur_ Graves?" Delacroix asked in concern.

Graves felt his teeth grind as he met Theseus' eyes.

"I don't suppose either Newt or Tina ever informed you that Queenie Goldstein is a very powerful natural Legilimens?"

Theseus stilled as he absorbed this information.

" _What_?" he hissed as his mind reeled at both the threats, and possibilities, this now presented.

~..~..~..~..

Queenie gasped as she caught Theseus' mind and knew, she had to get to her husband, quickly.

~...~..~..~..

Leta had just introduced Newt to some very influential people, who, prompted by her, had said they'd be happy to help Newt in his work, whether it was financially, or even with contacts. One wizard had told Newt that he knew of a Snidget breeder who needed help, and would Newt be interested in adding the tiny golden endangered birds to his collection?

Newt couldn't say yes fast enough.

"Thank you so much, Leta," Newt was saying as the pair moved on through the crowd. "Helping to boost the snidget population..." Newt felt his excitement brewing at the prospect of raising the extremely rare birds and began mentally listing the resources he'd need.

"My pleasure, Newt," Leta told him fondly as she hooked her arm through his. "I know talking to people has never been your forte, so I'm happy to help you with making contacts. It's the least I can do." She lowered her eyes guiltily.

"You need to stop beating yourself up Leta," Newt told her. "It was a long time ago."

"Yes," the woman nodded. "So that is a long time for you to think the worst of me. Thinking I just abandoned you-"

"But you didn't," Newt cut her off, reassuring himself as well as her. "I know that now. So now, we can move on."

Leta turned to Newt, a smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

"You are such a Hufflepuff," she told him fondly. "Speaking of moving on," she added, continuing with their walk around the room. "Who was that woman I saw you with, earlier?

"Sorry?" Newt stammered.

"When you came off the stage?" Leta prompted. "The first people you greeted were professor Dumbledore, a dark-haired man and a blond woman, who looked like they were an item, and then there was a brunette you went straight up to, with a big smile on your face."

"Oh," Newt swallowed, berating himself for not being more discreet earlier. But he couldn't mention Tina, told himself. She was suspended.

Tina had already had her picture taken by some over-zealous reporter, he reminded himself.

Still, that reporter's story wouldn't be published till tomorrow, he told himself. And Theseus and Graves were hopefully only reading the paper for news of Grindlewald, and so wouldn't see it…

But still, the least Newt could do was try and keep Tina's presence here hidden for the duration of the night.

"She's no one," Newt told Leta quickly. "Just an acquaintance of mine, from my travels."

"Really?" Leta's eyes moved off Newt and appeared to be looking at something behind him. "She appears to have thought otherwise."

Feeling his blood run cold, Newt turned just in time to see Tina's disguised-self disappear into the crowd.

Turning back to Leta, he could feel the shocked expression on his face, which contrasted with Leta's calm, inquisitive one.

"Excuse me," he told her as he turned and made to follow Tina.

Leta watched as Newt disappeared into the crowd, clearly distraught at his, now obvious, mistake.

The woman sighed. Part of her had hoped it wouldn't have come to tactics like this. She didn't like hurting Newt.

But still, she had a job to do…

~..~..~..

Jacob felt someone grab his arm just as he reached the stage, and turned to find his wife, with a panic stricken look on her face.

"What is it, Queenie?" He asked.

"Graves knows I'm here," she hissed. "And he knows I'm a legilimens. He told Theseus."

Jacob felt his heart sinking as fear for his wife's safety began to fill his own chest.

"This isn't good, right?" He asked.

"We have to leave, Honey," Queenie told him apologetically. "They can't find Credence, so they wanna take me in instead."

"They can't arrest you," Jacob insisted, ready to protect his wife and Queenie smiled, feeling the love behind his words.

"They'll find a reason to," Queenie whispered, glancing at the space where Newt's case could just be glimpsed under the stage. "The case is safe there, for now, Jacob," she assured her husband. "They're more focussed on me now, so it's best we-"

Her voice cut off as a gasp escaped her lips.

"What?" Jacob asked fearfully.

"Teenie," she whispered.

Turning, the woman glimpsed her sister making her way to the door, and Queenie could feel Tina's pain from across the room.

"Let's go," she grabbed her husband's arm and hurried after her sister.

~..~..~..~,,

Leta climbed carefully down into Newt's case, casting her eyes curiously over the contents of the potting shed before making her way into the door.

Stepping out into the creature area of Newt's case, Leta had to stop and pause.

"Well, Newt," she whispered, a smile tugging at her mouth, impressed at the layout. "You've really out done yourself this time."

A movement out of the corner of her eye caused Leta to start, and she turned to spy one of the Kneazles that she'd seen earlier on stage, fixing her with a steady gaze.

"Hello," she greeted slowly, keeping her voice low, drawing her wand slowly as another kneazle appeared beside it.

The kneazles hissed in unison, ears pulled back.

"Oh, please," Leta goaded. "What are you going to do?"

The kneazles began to growl.

"Immobulus," Leta whispered, and the cat-like creatures became frozen in place.

Knowing she had to work quickly, Leta made the decision to not go searching for what she wanted, but instead, to have what she wanted come to her.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a few galleons and scattered them noisily across the ground in front of her.

Sure enough, in a matter of moments, Newt's little niffler appeared, scampering along the ground, collecting the gold coins.

Leta used more coins to make a trail along the ground, encouraging the creature to come towards her.

"Come on, little one," she whispered, making a show of pouring a few more coins into her bag. "Come and get your gold."

Unable to resist the lure of the shiny gold galleons, the niffler dove into the bag, which Leta promptly shut and spelled closed to prevent it escaping.

"Gotcha," she smiled before quickly making her way back into the potting shed and up the stairs.

~..~..~..~..

Credence felt Dougal tugging on his hand urgently and, seeing that the runespoor had begun to argue amongst its three heads, he felt that it was time he left the cave enclosure.

He hadn't learned much, as the three heads of the snake would often disagree with each other, however, he had felt himself becoming more comfortable with the fact that he could talk to snakes.

He thought of the snake symbols of Slytherin and the Horned Serpent, realising he was a descendant of both founders, and he found himself feeling something that was like pride.

And, even more strangely, the emotion didn't feel sinful.

He was starting to learn where he'd come from, and why he was born this way.

Still, Dougal continued to pull on his arm, and Credence realised the demiguise was leading him close to the potting shed.

The sound of the shed door shutting, brought Credence back to the present and he ran forward and into the shed in time for the briefcase lid to snap shut.

"Newt?" He called hesitantly.

Quickly climbing up the ladder, Credence peeked out of the briefcase to find it had been stashed under the stage. He could see the shoes of the guests as they moved about in the large room, but Credence couldn't tell whose shoes belonged to the person who'd just left the case.

Should he find Newt and tell him? He wondered.

Credence felt Dougal tugging his trouser leg in an effort to get him back into the case. But Credence continued to watch, staring out at all the sparkle and glamour with a mixture of curiosity and longing.

He really was getting tired of hiding, he realised. He was getting tired of being afraid.

But then, he saw something that reminded him _why_ he should be afraid.

Mr Graves.

It was Mr Graves…

'No, it wasn't,' he reminded himself as his heart began to pound. 'This was the _real_ Mr Graves. The one who tried to use me back in New York was Grindlewald. Not this man.'

Dougal gave a stronger tug on his leg, trying to get Credence to return to the safety of the case.

But still, Credence couldn't help but continue to stare at the man talking to another, younger, dark-haired man and a woman with ice blond hair.

Mr Graves looked exactly how Credence remembered him…

'But it wasn't the same Mr Graves', he reminded himself as it became harder to breathe, and a whimper escaped from his lips.

Same haircut, same focused gaze, and he even carried himself the same way, Credence noted as he and the younger man made their way across the crowded hall.

'But this _isn't_ the Mr Graves I thought I knew', Credence reminded himself, feeling his obscurus writhe within him.

That man wanted to use his power to kill people, to turn him in to a weapon…

' _No_ ', Credence clenched his hands into fists as he fought to keep his obscurus under control.

'This is the _real_ Mr Graves', Credence reminded himself. 'He doesn't want to use me as a weapon to kill people'.

 _No, he just wants to use you as bait to capture Grindlewald, the man who did want to use you as a weapon to kill people._ A voice at the back of his mind hissed.

Credence felt his obscurus rise further to the surface, as wisps of black began to emanate from him.

Finally, Dougal gave the strongest tug yet, nearly pulling Credence off the ladder. Credence was just able to cling on to a ladder rung, but felt his wrist twinge painfully as it took his full weight. Still, it did cause him to snap out of his reverie, and he slowly climbed down to the floor of the potting shed.

"Oww," Credence gasped as he experimented with his wrist, it didn't seem to be broken, but it did hurt.

Dougal immediately wrapped his arms around Credence's waist in comfort, as if to say sorry for causing him to be hurt.

"It's okay, Dougal," Credence assured the demiguise as he returned the hug. "I know you didn't mean it. That actually helped."

Credence pulled Dougal closer to him as he imagined what could have happened if he'd lost control just then.

He could have killed Mr Graves. The _real_ Mr Graves.

He could have killed everyone out there in the hall.

His friends were out there, he reminded himself and he felt his self-loathing rise up again.

He could have killed his friends, just because he saw a man who looked like the man who had taken advantage of his trust.

Credence gasped as his head shot up.

Trust.

Newt trusted him.

His friends trusted him.

He had to prove he was worth it.

Credence frowned as he refocused. Someone had entered the case and left just as quickly.

Picking Dougal up, Credence exited the potting shed and cast his eyes over the enclosures pensively.

If any of his friends had come into the case, surely they would have made themselves known?

Hearing a strange meowing sound, Credence looked around until he discovered three kneazles circling two others, sniffing, prodding and purring.

Approaching slowly, Credence realised that the two kneazles was frozen in place, fur on end, ears back and mid-hiss. The other kneazles were apparently trying to get their friends to move, prodding with their paws in concern.

Placing Dougal carefully on the ground, he took out his wand and removed the spell.

As the formerly frozen kneazles began purring in gratitude, Credence felt a rush of relief as the catlike creatures rubbed against him affectionately. He was still a good person. However, as he stroked the kneazles' patchy fur, he realised something must be wrong.

Kneazles can tell the difference between a good person and a bad person, he remembered.

And why would a kneazle hiss at a good person? He reasoned.

Someone had just broken into Newt's case, Credence realised.

But why?

~..~..~..~..

Tina tried to focus on her breathing as she walked. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene.

" _She's no one. Just an acquaintance of mine, from my travels."_

Tina felt her throat tighten painfully.

Of course, she was. Why was she even surprised? This has been the story of her love-life ever since she was old enough to have a love life.

But _acquaintance_? Seriously? Was that all he saw her as? Not even a friend?

Tina could see the exit door just ahead of her. Nearly there.

Tina once again reminded herself that Newt had been carrying Leta's picture around for years. She swallowed, fighting the emotion welling. So really, was it such a shock that he'd want to go straight back to her at the earliest opportunity?

Why was she even acting like this? She wondered. She was having a stronger reaction to this than she'd thought she would.

'Snap out of it, Goldstein,' she berated herself. 'You have more important things to be worrying about tonight.'

Still, Tina felt she needed some space to collect herself. If she could just make it to the door…

Finally, she reached the exit door and left the bustle of the ballroom for the cool entrance way, the contrast was like a breath of fresh air.

"Tina!"

She turned to see Queenie rush up to her to give her a hug, Jacob close behind.

"It's not what you think, Teenie," her sister tried to assure her.

"Really?" Tina's voice was flat.

"He was trying to cover for you!" Queenie insisted. "You're not even supposed to be here!"

"You're absolutely right about that."

The small group started as Aurors Graves and Scamander exited the ballroom to confront them.

"Mr Graves," Queenie stammered.

"Miss Goldstein. No, sorry," he corrected himself, eyes landing on Jacob. "Mrs Kowalski."

Graves waved a hand and Tina felt her disguise fall away.

"Tina," he greeted. The depth of disappointment and anger the American auror conveyed with that simple greeting was enough to take Tina's voice.

"You're a legilimens?" Auror Scamander demanded of Queenie.

"Yes sir," Queenie answered. "But I'm no threat."

Theseus took a deep breath and Queenie went pale.

"I assure you Sir," she said quickly. "I'm not a-"

"I'll be the judge of that," Theseus stated firmly. "I'll be taking you in for questioning, Mrs Kowalski."

"No!" Jacob objected.

"For what?" Tina demanded, moving to stand in front of her sister.

"Withholding information from the Ministry," Theseus stated, waving his wand and, in moments, Queenie's hands were cuffed behind her back.

"Over my dead body," Jacob objected, making to take a swing at Theseus, only to find himself immobilised.

"I want to make this clear, you are not under arrest, Mrs Kowalski," Theseus spoke calmly to Queenie, who kept her eyes down, as if concentrating. "I just want your help on clarifying a few things, that's all."

"Then why is she in cuffs?" Tina demanded angrily.

"What's going on here?" Newt asked as arrived on the scene, skidding to a stop. "Where are you taking Queenie? She's done nothing wrong!"

"What about your brother?" Graves asked Theseus, indicating the magizoologist.

"I'll have him put under observation, for now," Theseus granted, knowing if they arrested him tonight, it would just draw more media attention to something they don't want known yet. "We have enough to warrant it."

"Observation?" Newt repeated, still trying to catch up with events.

"Now, Tina's out of my jurisdiction," Theseus said aside to Graves.

"You go ahead, I'll handle her," Graves told him.

"Queenie-"

"I'll be okay, Teenie,' the woman assured her sister.

"Now, Theseus, wait-" Newt began, but his brother disapparated, taking the blond woman with him.

"You have no right to take her," Tina told Graves furiously, though she knew, without her wand, she was unable to do anything.

"She's a legilimens who has been in the presence of high profile people connected with Grindlewald and may have some very useful information that could help us find and defeat him," Graves stated firmly. "Believe me, Goldstein, we have every right to take her to get this madman, and you are in no position to do anything to stop us from doing our job. Just as you were meant to do yours. So," the man smiled without humour, "I'd be more worried about myself if I were you."

"What are you going to do to Queenie?" Tina asked fearfully, already determined that, whatever it was, she'd find a way to get her sister out.

"Just ask her questions," Graves assured her. "We'll likely let her go once we have what we need."

" _Likely_?" Tina echoed, her voice going up an octave in a mixture of anger and fear.

"Well, she's now a British resident," Graves reminded her. "Out of my jurisdiction."

"Sir," Tina tried again. "I understand Grindlewald's a danger, but I don't think that endangering innocent people is-"

"Endangering innocent people?" Graves snarled. "You mean like the staff at the French hospital who Grindlewald killed trying to get another obscurial? By withholding information from us Tina, you could have ended up endangering more innocent people than I have. You let your heart rule your head, every time," his voice had become low now. "And it has cost you dearly."

Graves raised a hand, holding up Tina's wand and the woman stared, uncomprehending.

"You're fired," Graves stated, tossing Tina's wand on the ground dismissively before disapparating.

Tina felt herself struggling to breathe.

 _Not again…_

"Tina, Jacob, I'm so sorry," Newt stammered as he released his friend from the spell.

Tina seemed numb as she slowly picked up her wand from where it had fallen on the ground.

"Where have they taken Queenie?" Jacob demanded.

"Most likely to the Ministry of Magic," Newt answered, his eyes on Tina as she slowly stood back up, her expression unreadable.

"Well," Jacob's voice went up with his rising fear, "how are we going to get her out?"

"Very carefully," a voice spoke up, and the three of them turned as Albus Dumbledore arrived on the scene.

"I received a call for help from your wife, Mr Kowalski," Dumbledore explained, tapping his temple with a finger. "Her skills are impressive. I'm sorry I didn't get here in time to intervene, but I felt it would be better to avoid a scene. Don't worry Jacob," Albus assured the baker. "Your wife will be fine."

"You sure about that?" Jacob stammered.

"Yes," Albus answered mildly before turning to Newt.

"I suggest you make an early exit, Newt," Albus suggested. "We have a fair bit of work to do."

"Right," Newt nodded, but instead to returning to the ballroom, he turned to Tina, swallowing.

"Tina…" He began hesitantly.

"We have to go get the case," Tina ordered, cutting Newt off. "We all need to leave. Now."

~..~..~..~..

Delacroix let out a hiss of annoyance. All the American and British aurors had just found a discreet area of the ballroom and disapparated, one by one, out of sight of the reporters.

Graves and Scamander had just given an order and kept her out of the loop.

"Auror Delacroix?" Deputy Cousteau approached her cautiously. "It appears, we are believed to be superfluous to requirements."

"What has developed?" Delacroix demanded. She had pointed out the woman in the turquoise dress, believed to be Auror Goldstein, as she had made her way from the hall, and Graves and Scamander had moved immediately.

"Apparently," Deputy Cousteau began, "you were right about that woman being the disguised auror."

"But they did not arrest her," Delacroix noted, spying a woman wearing the same turquoise dress, but baring a different face, re-enter the ballroom and head towards the stage, accompanied by Newt Scamander.

"Bovary," she called, and the auror appeared at her side in moments.

"Is that Auror Goldstein?" Delacroix asked. "You met her earlier."

" _Oui_. That's her," Bovary nodded.

"Can you confirm that, _Monsieur_ Cousteau?" Delacroix said aside to her deputy.

" _Oui_ , Auror Delacroix," Cousteau nodded affirmatively.

Delacroix nodded.

"Then come," she invited.

~..~..~..~..

Approaching the stage from the rear, out of sight of the main hall. Newt reached under the stage and claimed his case, already feeling himself calmer as he felt the familiar weight of it in his hands.

"Alright, let's go," Tina encouraged, eager to leave.

"Wait," Newt told her, examining his case. "It's unlocked."

Tina frowned.

"Did you-"

"No," Newt pre-empted her. "Someone's opened it."

Tina scanned the room.

"Most of the Aurors are gone," she reported anxiously.

"Why would they do that?" Newt asked her and Tina went pale.

"Please tell me Credence is still in there," she pleaded.

Placing his case on the ground, Newt opened it and quickly climbed down.

"Credence?" He called, running out of the potting shed.

"Newt," The young man called as he ran into view and Newt slumped in relief.

"Oh, thank goodness, Credence," the man smiled. "You're alright. When we noticed so many aurors had gone, and the case unlocked, we-"

"Someone's been in your case," Credence cut him off urgently, gaining Newt's full attention

"I was in another part of the case, and Dougal pulled me down here," Credence gestured to the potting shed, "just in time to hear the lid snap shut. I've checked all the enclosures, Newt," he continued quickly, "and your niffler's missing."

Newt swallowed.

"He-he probably just escaped, as usual," Newt nodded, as if trying to reassure himself. "He's incorrigible."

"No," Credence insisted. "Listen to me: the kneazles were frozen."

"What?" Newt asked.

"They were _frozen_ ," Credence repeated. " _Spelled_ frozen. The niffler didn't just escape, someone _took_ him. I-I'm sorry I didn't save him." Credence finished cautiously, flinching on reflex.

Newt felt a flash of worry for his niffler before reminding himself that Queenie and Credence were still in danger.

"No need for that," he stated quickly, stopping Credence as he automatically reached for his belt. "I'm not your Mother, remember?" Newt prompted and Credence relaxed slightly.

"I'll help you find your niffler," Credence volunteered, eager to make amends.

"Thank you, Credence, but we can't do that now, we have more to worry about," Newt informed him. "Queenie's been arrested."

Credence's eyes grew wide.

"Why?"

"The auror's couldn't find you here, so they took Queenie instead," Newt explained quickly. "They think her legilimancy will give them more insight, not only into you, but also Grindlewald."

"Tina?" Credence asked fearfully.

"She's been fired," Newt admitted. "Graves found out you were alive and fired Tina for not telling him. Now, Credence," Newt gripped the young man's shoulders as he reeled from this new information.

 _Tina lost her job because she was trying to protect him…again…_

"We're still at the book promotion, but we have to leave, now," Newt continued urgently. "Tina and I are going to get Queenie out-"

"Me too," Credence volunteered.

"What? No, Credence," Newt told him. "You're the one they're after."

"Exactly!" Credence insisted. "Maybe we can… I don't know… make a deal."

"A deal?" Newt repeated, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"You really are a Slytherin, Credence," Newt told him, finally eliciting a small smile from the young man. "But our job is to protect you. We will get Queenie out," he insisted, "and we'll find a way for Tina to get her job back. And we'll do it all while keeping you safe from the Ministry and Grindlewald."

Credence met Newt's gaze and the wizard felt the weight of that boy's trust in equal measure with his scepticism. Unsurprising, after all the times the younger man been let down throughout his life.

"That's my goal, at least," Newt finished. "But, in my experience, everything works itself out in the end. Nothing to worry about."

"You expect me to believe that?" Credence asked.

"My philosophy is: worrying makes you suffer twice," Newt reminded Credence. "So, best to respond to things as they come, rather than worry over something that might not happen."

Credence frowned as Newt turned and headed for the potting shed. For, in Credence's experience, imagining what could come made him more prepared for it when the worst happened.

~..~..~..~..

Tina hovered by the case. Newt had been down there too long. Just as she was contemplating entering the case herself, she heard someone call her name.

Turning, she spotted the Aurors from the French delegation, Deputy Cousteau and Auror Bovary, accompanied by a woman with ice blond hair whom Tina didn't recognise.

" _Bonsoir_ , Deputy Cousteau," Tina greeted, clearing her throat nervously. "Auror Bovary."

" _Bonsoir_ Auror Goldstein," Deputy Cousteau greeted smoothly. "Allow me to introduce you to the Head of Magical Law enforcement in France: Auror Sabine Delacroix."

"An honour, Ma'am," Tina greeted, trying to keep her voice even. "I hope Britain is treating you well?"

"Not as well as I would have expected," Delacroix answered, smiling coolly. "And neither is America. For both _Monsieur_ Scamander and _Monsieur_ Graves have taken all their own aurors and left the premises, without informing me of any development. I see you are still here though, Auror Goldstein."

"Well," Tina stammered slightly, trying not to glance at the case on the ground. "There's a good reason for that, Ma'am," she began, hoping to stall. "I've just lost my job."

"I'm sorry to hear that… _Mademoiselle_ ," Delacroix said after a pause. "What was your _Monsieur_ Graves' reasons? He did, after all, tell me you were a good auror."

Tina swallowed.

"I used my heart before my head," she answered slowly.

Delacroix nodded slowly in understanding. "Yes, he said that also," the woman stepped forward. "A woman's greatest gift is often what men would see as weakness," she stated, coming closer. "So, I have a question for you then, _Mademoiselle_ Goldstein: what would you do to protect those you love?"

"Excuse me?" Tina asked.

"You have lost your job, which I imagine means a great deal to you," Delacroix became more business-like. "You came disguised as another to protect an obscurial who you had previously saved from abuse, and who is now trying to live his life while three separate governments and a madman attempt to find him. You also came to support _Monsieur_ Scamander who has previously saved your life and helped you regain the position you lost the first time around. You avoid letting your sister's abilities be known, lest someone judges her, or attempts to take advantage- _oui-_ " Delacroix cut Tina off as she attempted to speak- "Graves told me as well as Auror Scamander. And you left the ballroom with your sister, and now re-enter it without her, and all of your aurors are gone," She finished.

"They took your sister," Delacroix concluded. "And ended your job as an auror, so that you have no power to intervene. Am I right?"

Tina studied Delacroix.

"You think I was fired, so that I'd have less ability to stop Graves taking my sister?" She asked.

"A civilian always has less power than an auror in times such as these," Delacroix reminded Tina. "However," she continued, "I am head of the French Law enforcement, so I could help ensure your sister's safe return."

"Why?" Tina asked flatly. "You want to catch Credence as much as-"

"No," Delacroix stated. "I want to capture _Grindlewald_. I want to protect my country from the madman, who destroyed a hospital of sick and injured and _innocent_ people. And if the obscurial-"

"Credence," Tina corrected.

"If Credence," Delacroix amended, "would be so kind as to help us do that, and if his strength of control is as good as you've told Graves, then I see no reason why he cannot be allowed to live in peace once Grindlewald is behind bars."

Tina frowned, wary.

"Graves described you as one who would do anything for the right cause." Delacroix mused. "He may have just done the worst thing possible: taking your job, taking your sister," the woman gave a Mona Lisa Smile, "so now you are not attached to a ministry, and you now have nothing to lose."

They were interrupted as Newt climbed back out of the case.

"Oh," he stated upon seeing that Tina was no longer alone.

"Newt, these are the aurors from the French delegation: Head Auror, Delacroix, Deputy Head Auror Cousteau and Auror Bovary."

"Bonsoir," Newt greeted, snapping his case shut. "I was just checking in on my creatures."

"Would one of those be an obscurial?" Deputy Cousteau asked bluntly.

"I'm sorry?" Newt asked mildly.

"Forgive Deputy Cousteau," Auror Delacroix said quickly, stepping forward. " _Monsieur_ Scamander _,_ I admire your dedication and loyalty to your friends and charges," she began carefully, "however, I feel it is in the best interests of, not just your own country, but all of us, to utilise and share every advantage available, to capture Grindlewald. Will you help us do that?"

Newt considered the woman pensively.

"You're the first person to actually ask, Auror Delacroix, thank you for that," Newt stated, knowing it was useless to lie at this point. "However, you are talking about using a young man who has been subject to cruelty his whole life. "

" _Monsieur_ Scamander-," Auror Delacroix began, but Newt cut her off _._

"And now you want to simply use him as bait to lure a man who would happily use him as a weapon," Newt continued. " _Credence_ is not an advantage. He is not a _weapon_. He is a _person_."

"Then why not let him decide for himself?" Auror Delacroix put forward.

"He has," Newt stated. "And _Credence_ has made it quite clear that he wants to stay as far away from Grindlewald as possible. So that," Newt finished firmly, "as his caregivers, is what we will do our best to ensure."

" _Monsieur_ Scamander," Delacroix tried diplomacy again, "if your obscurial could help-"

"Credence," Tina corrected. "He has a name."

"And he is not mine," Newt added. "He's his own person."

Delacroix took a breath.

"If Credence could help us lure Grindlewald to us," she began.

"And then what?" Tina asked bluntly, done with being polite. "Grindlewald has escaped two high security prisons in the past and evaded capture from the global wizarding community. So, how would you capture a man who has such a gift for escape?"

"And, if Credence did decide to help lure Grindlewald, and the man showed up, and your plan fails," Newt added, "you've then allowed the most feared wizard in the world to gain the most powerful obscurial ever known. A young man who has been abused for being different, and now just wants to live his life. Surely, Auror Delacroix," Newt pleaded, "Credence has been through enough."

"I'm sorry, Auror Delacroix," Tina finished for them. "But, as you said, I'm not tied to any Ministry, now. So, unless Credence decides to help, we will protect him from you."

Delacroix studied the pair carefully, aware she was out of her jurisdiction, and so, regrettably couldn't force their hand, yet.

"I admire your dedication to your duty of care," she told them slowly, keeping her voice measured. "But I feel you are making a grave mistake."

"Bonsoir," Newt said in farewell, taking his leave.

"Bonsoir," Tina nodded before following.

Deputy Cousteau stepped up to stand beside Delacroix.

"What now?" He asked. "Diplomacy has failed you."

"They are currently out of our jurisdiction," Auror Delacroix conceded. "However, there is more than one way to get a job done, Auror Cousteau."

~..~..~..~..

Newt and Tina met up with Dumbledore and Jacob on the street outside.

"That took a while," Dumbledore commented. "Did you have trouble?"

"The French Head Auror, Delacroix, confronted us," Tina explained quickly. "She, at least tried asking, instead of ordering."

"And, I'm assuming you said 'no'?" The professor asked calmly.

"Correct," Tina nodded. "Now, how are we going to get Queenie away from the Ministry?"

"Before we go, there's something I should mention, though it's probably unconnected," Newt spoke up. "I went to check on Credence, and he said someone broke into my case."

"What?" the others asked in unison.

"Credence said he found the kneazles spelled frozen, and my niffler missing," he supplied.

"Someone stole the niffler?" Jacob queried.

"Or, someone searched the case, and the niffler simply took advantage and escaped," Dumbledore supplied another theory.

"We'll find your niffler, Newt," Tina assured him. "But right now, we need to focus on Queenie."

"Yes, of course," Newt nodded, turning to Dumbledore. "Any ideas?"

"Oh, a couple," Dumbledore smiled, holding out his hand. Everyone grasped the man's arm, and with a loud 'crack' the group apparated.

~..~..~..~..

Leta stuck to the shadows as much as she could. Even with her chameleon charm, she felt it wasn't worth the risk of her being spotted.

Hurrying up the marble steps, she made her way over to an out-of-the-way side door she knew was reserved for the house elves and other non-human staff, like the goblins.

Leta swallowed, casting a few surreptitious spells just to check… and no, there were no hidden traps, detection charms or the like. This wasn't an entrance made for humans, after all, and humans were the only ones considered a threat.

Taking a breath, she quickly knelt down and opened her bag, extracting the little niffler she'd taken from Newt's case.

"Okay, little one," she told the small creature. "You do your job. Then I can do my job. And then we can both be free. Deal?"

The little niffler apparently had a sense of where shiny things were and was already squirming, reaching towards the small door.

"That's it," Leta smiled as she placed the niffler on the ground, and the creature scampered joyfully forward, squeezing its way under the door.

Leta hurried back into the shadows, knowing she'd likely have a long wait ahead.

After all, Gringotts held an awful lot of gold.

And, like most magical buildings, it was spelled to protect itself against _human_ intruders, not creatures.

Leta couldn't help it as a relieved smile spread across her face.

For what felt like forever, she'd been working towards this, and now, Newt had given her the final piece she needed.

~..~..~..~..

Skender looked over what remained of his circus. The fires from the fireworks had finally been put out, and his team were picking through the wreckage, repairing and salvaging what they could.

"What's the damage, Grimson?" he asked as one of his stage hands came up to report.

"Most of the creatures have either been taken, or they've fled from the fires," the man reported. "And it wasn't just the creatures who ran off."

"What do you mean?" Skender asked.

"Merope," came the answer. "She's gone."

Skender sighed, "Well, she'd outlived her use anyway," he answered before frowning. "What about the new girl?"

"Still in her cage," the man grinned.

"Good," Skender nodded. "We'll need _something_ to bring money in after this."

The sound of footsteps caused them to turn, and they saw a man walking towards them, kicking broken pieces of crates and cages out of his way as he did so.

"Well, this looks like it was quite the spectacle. Although, I know it was," the man continued lightly, his face in shadow against the moonlight. "I saw it from several miles away."

"Who're you?" Skender demanded, drawing his wand. "Lumos."

As the light erupted from the tip of the man's wand, the stranger's face came into full view and the pair stood in shock.

"Gentlemen," Grindlewald grinned in greeting. "I understand you have a knack for finding wizarding oddities that few have ever seen?"

"Yes, that's right, sir," Skender stammered. "Grimson is our best tracker, sir." He continued, gesturing to the stagehand at his side. "He used to be a bounty hunter before he got a bounty on his own head. He now travels with us, finding freaks among freaks."

"Oh, don't you ever call yourselves that," Grindlewald said smoothly as he stepped forward, causing the men to stumble back slightly in fear. "You are wizards. Gods among mortals. And the extraordinary people you find, are legends among the gods."

Grindlewald studied the pair before him, sensing with his magic as well as studying them with his practiced eyes.

"Gentlemen," he smiled. "I have a job for you," he propositioned. "And I can assure you, your payment will be enough for you to forget about this traveling circus and retire in comfort for the rest of your days."

Both men predictably relaxed at the mention of such a large payment.

"What's the job, sir?" Grimson asked. "I assure you, whatever it is your looking for, I can get it."

"Good," Grindlewald smiled, "because I tend to garner too much attention these days," he smirked again as he made sure he had the full attention of the pair before him. "I want you to find someone that was lost to me. Something that my informants tell me lies hidden here, in Britain. Once you have them, meet me in Paris, for I can't stay here, in London."

"Absolutely…boss," Grimson agreed. "Who is it you want us to find?"

"I want you to bring me the most powerful obscurial in the world," Grindlewald ordered. "His name is Credence Barebone."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _Where do I start explaining this chapter?_

 _Due to so many characters being in this chapter, I felt continuity was important, and, while there may be a couple of fuzzy moments, such as 'why did it take Jacob so long to get the case?' I think I did alright. Remember, a lot of these events were happening at the same time._

 _I think Eddie Redmayne has said in interviews that Newt is still very much in love with Leta, and, as I mentioned in an earlier chapter (with Jacob, Newt and Dumbledore discussing Leta, before Jacob's wedding), Newt believes that Leta is a good person, just misunderstood, much like he views his creatures._

 _However, Queenie has said that Leta was a taker, which I understood to mean that she could be a bit manipulative, and often took advantage of Newt's Hufflepuff loyalty as well as his feelings for her._

 _So, for her introduction in this chapter, I wanted to show her as a person who understood Newt completely. She knew he would always see the best in her, as that was what he wanted to see. She also suspected he still harboured feelings for her, and used that, and his passion for caring for creatures as a way to distract him and regain his trust. However, when realising he couldn't take her to the case, she used a different tactic, taking advantage of his new relationship- knowing he would try to protect, as always, and then make amends for a mistake- giving Leta the time she needed to sneak into his case and get the niffler._

 _And we will find out what she's planning on doing with the gold in a future chapter…_

 _Auror Delacroix played a bigger role than I thought she would in this chapter._

 _I think I said this in my last chapter's A/N but I originally hadn't planned for Credence's existence to have been found out by this point, but the characters keep on throwing me curveballs…_

 _I wanted Delacroix to show she was still very capable at her job, but while Graves and Theseus were more prone to using their position to take what they wanted, Delacroix would often choose diplomacy first._

 _But I also wanted Tina to showcase more of herself as well. J. K. Rowling has said before that Tina is a bit uptight and brittle, but there are real insecurities and a vulnerability underneath._

 _(I don't know why I've heard so many people say they don't like Tina. I actually find her very relatable. I'd think we've all had times when we try our best to do our job, or to do the right thing, but it doesn't work out, for whatever reason. Or times when we feel our voices aren't heard, as we're perceived to be unimportant. That is who I think Tina was at the start of the first movie, having lost her confidence after losing her job. And why did she lose her job: Because she was trying to protect a boy from an abusive mother. Losing your job because you tried to protect someone… that would be ironic for an Auror.)_

 _And Katherine Waterson has said that Tina has the potential to be a 'badass,' as well, which I agree with, after seeing her take on 'GindleGraves' in the first movie. At the time, she felt she was going against her boss, which would likely have resulted in her losing her position at MACUSA completely, yet she did it, once again, to try and protect Credence._

 _So, I wanted to showcase all of that regarding Tina in this chapter. She's determined to be there to keep an eye on Credence and Newt, but very insecure when she sees Leta, needing to leave the hall to compose herself when she realises she's getting emotional. But still willing to stand up to Graves and Theseus, in defence of her sister, and then again, standing up against Delacroix to protect Credence, seeing the flaws in the French Auror's offer to help get Queenie out in return for Credence's service to catch Grindlewald._

 _As I think that is a valid point: Even if Credence agreed to act as bait, if it went wrong, Grindlewald gets control of Credence which would just be the worst thing imaginable._

 _As for Credence, I admit, he is one I'm having trouble writing. I believe he is a Slytherin personality because he's very resourceful and cunning, as he's proven in the first movie._

 _In the first film, Credence is so introverted and… internal, that we don't get to see much of who he is outside the trauma of his upbringing. However, now that he's had time to experience life for himself, and feels he now has the ability and the freedom to express himself more, I would feel he would want to do so._

 _But how would he do that? He's never been allowed to express himself before. Would he be angry? Would he be affectionate? Or just unsure?_

 _An interesting question was put to me by a Slytherin friend of mine: if Credence hadn't had his traumatising upbringing, what would he be like? If that can be figured out, we can then work back to assume how he'll react to situations now._

 _Of course, unfortunately, we'll never know for sure. But, as we see in the first movie, he still reaches out to 'Graves'. He still cares for his sisters. He calms down for Newt in the subway. He listens to Tina. Even after all he has suffered, Credence was still trying to reach out to people, even though he was terrified. And the only times we see him attacking anyone is when he believes there has been mistreatment, such as when he attacks Senator Shaw, his mother and GrindleGraves._

 _Even in the subway, when GrindleGraves and Newt begin duelling, Credence runs away from the conflict._

 _He runs away from the fight._

 _He actually doesn't seem to like violence, he doesn't like conflict or hurting other people, despite being surrounded by such acts his whole life._

 _It would be so easy for someone with that upbringing to become desensitised, and to shed their empathy, but for Credence, the fact that he only lets his obscurus out in defence, and is able to calm down when Newt talks to him in the subway, shows that Credence is still holding on to the hope that he can connect with someone._

 _Its for this reason, that I believe, if Credence had grown up in a loving household, he would have likely become a Hufflepuff personality._

 _So, I'm trying to write him as, not so much a pure Slytherin, but more a Hufflepuff who was forced to develop Slytherin qualities in order to survive._

 _Or, possibly more accurately, a broken Hufflepuff._

 _Which is why I like the idea of Newt being the one to take care of Credence, because Newt also has been hurt by people and struggles to connect with others, but he is more comfortable with who he is. And so, Newt can be an example to Credence that, even though he may never fully recover from his upbringing, he can still find a way to live a good life, with people who accept him as he is, rather than having to change dramatically in order to be accepted._

 _I can imagine Credence experiencing a panic attack upon seeing Graves for the first time, as it would be quite overwhelming, I'd imagine, seeing someone who looks exactly like the person who tried to use you._

 _I have Dougal playing the role of Credence's teddy bear, of sorts. Credence is still struggling with connecting to people, yet he still craves that comfort, and so Dougal, being able to predict when Credence needs help, is able to give him the comfort he needs to calm down when he's struggling to do it himself._

 _I read about the Runespoor, where else, but in the book 'Fantastic Beasts and where to find them.' A favourite pet of parseltongues, the head on the right is said to be the critic, the head in the middle is the dreamer and the head on the left is the decision maker. Only the right head has venom, and the heads are prone to arguing amongst themselves._

 _I know Newt has one, after seeing a deleted scene of Fantastic beasts, and so thought it would be the creature Credence would go to, in order to learn more about his newly discovered ability._

 _I don't think Credence wants to be a hero. He doesn't want to be the one to stop Grindlewald, he doesn't want to be used by the Ministry as bait, he just wants to be free to live his life._

 _But still, he has friends for the first time ever, and they're all putting themselves at risk to protect him, something he's never experienced before…_

 _And Slytherins and Hufflepuffs are both extremely loyal, though both will try to avoid direct conflict, I think, wherever possible…_

 _Like I said, I'm finding Credence a difficult character to write, as deeply complex and intriguing a character as I find him to be._

 _I had not planned for Queenie to be taken in this chapter. In fact, I had never planned for Queenie to be taken at all, yet, like I said, my characters threw me another curve ball. I figured: Graves knew Queenie was a legilimens. And, if they couldn't find Credence, he'd try to get the next best thing, which was information. And who better to get information from than a person who can see into the minds of everyone around them?_

 _And while I'm sure Dumbledore would have a couple of ideas on how to get Queenie out, I admit, I'm a little stuck, so it may take a while for my next chapter to be posted, as I have to think of a way to save Queenie._

 _I also want Grindlewald to get up to a bit more mischief in future chapters, and there is something important I want to bring Willow back for, so I need to get her back into the story at some point._

 _But, with all these curveballs my characters keep throwing me, I may end up writing a different story than I'd intended, so all the set ups I did in earlier chapters may actually not lead to anything…._

 _We'll see what happens, I guess._

 _Some of you have been asking if I'll introduce the Maladictus (hope I spelled that correctly) in my story, and while I've hinted at her being here, just in case she wants to make an appearance, I don't know if I'll have room for her in my story._

 _I really only wanted the circus to feature for Newt to save the creatures, but I found I couldn't finish the chapter without mentioning them again, so, as they've now agreed to be bounty hunters for Grindlewald, I think there's a chance we'll see them again at some point._

 _And who was the one who told Grindlewald that Credence was alive?_

 _I don't know if any of my interpretations of the characters, or my theories for plotlines are correct at all, of course. It will remain to be seen in the next movie, but as long as they make sense within the context of my story, I'm happy with them!_

 _Oh, that reminds me: I was watching a Youtube video that broke down the 'Crimes of Grindlewald' trailer, and there was something really interesting…_

 _ **Spoilers ahead**_ _\- you have been warned- if you don't want to read, please scroll down to the review button below._

 _I've been trying to think of who Credence could be related to. I've written him as a descendant of Slytherin and Morrigan, but I'd love for him to have a living relative, as I'm not sure if Merope really counts, considering how distant she is, and the fact we know she'll die after giving birth before the new year._

 _But, on the CoG trailer, we actually see a figure standing under a bridge- possibly Dumbledore- where, if you freeze the frame, and zoom in, a family tree has been drawn up._

 _At the top of the tree, you see 'Corvinus Lestrange.'_

 _Below, and on the left, baring a female symbol, is the name 'Leta Lestrange'. (I think she's in the 'grandchild' position on the tree- there's someone above her, I think.)_

 _And below, on the right, baring a male symbol is the name 'Credence Barebone.'_

 _So, Credence may actually be a relation of the Lestranges, possibly a cousin of Leta's!_

 _Which may explain Leta's actual role in the upcoming movie, because, honestly, other than helping to give Newt some backstory and possibly creating some tension in his relationships with Tina and his brother, I can't quite see what her role could actually be._

 _But that's to be expected of course, as I'm not the one and only J. K. Rowling._

 _Alright, I have theorised, mused and speculated enough in my Author's note here, so I think I'll stop now._

 _If you've read all the way to the end here, I am grateful for your dedication._

 _Thank you so much for reading,_

 _Please leave a review!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's note: Hello everyone! I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated, but we're coming to the real nitty gritty part of the story and I've just been working on trying to make it flow, due to so many things happening at once._

 _As such, I've ended up splitting what was meant to be two chapters into three, so I hope having three chapters at once makes up for the long wait._

 _Enjoy!_

~..~..~..~..

Queenie sat at the only table in the interrogation room, seemingly glancing around at the blank walls, though her mind was actually focusing on those _behind_ the walls.

As soon as Auror Scamander had delivered her to the room, she'd been left alone. There were no windows, and the plain grey walls didn't even have a clock to tell her how long she'd been sitting at the small table.

This time yesterday was her wedding night, she mused, swallowing hard as she tried to control her building anxiety. Now she'd been arrested simply for being what she was.

Taking a deep breath, she focused again on the wizards outside.

No one was volunteering to interrogate her. For, as Tina had learned all too well as they grew up, occlumency could only protect you so much against a natural legilimens.

Tina…

She got a glimpse of her sister's face in Graves' mind, and felt sadness that her sister lost her job doing the very thing that made her want to become an auror in the first place: protecting others.

Queenie was sure her message for help had been received by Professor Dumbledore. She could tell the man as an expert at more than just transfiguration, and surely he, Newt and Tina would be able to work together to find a way to get her out.

Still, Queenie squared her shoulders as best as she could while still cuffed, she couldn't rely completely on being rescued. She had to figure out a way to protect Credence and Tina throughout her questioning when it eventually happened.

Queenie could feel the impatience growing from the aurors outside…

~..~..~..~..

"A junior auror wouldn't have the skills needed to interrogate someone," Theseus was saying.

"With her skill as a legilimens, there's too much risk in allowing one of us to interrogate her." Graves argued. "Who knows what further information she could get from us?"

Theseus frowned.

"She was at my family home over Christmas," he muttered, cursing under his breath. "Who knows what she got from me then?"

"Why don't we just use veritiserum?" Auror Graves asked.

"British law states we can only use veritiserum in extreme circumstances," Theseus argued. "We don't have enough on Queenie to warrant that. We don't even have a _warrant_ ," he reminded Graves.

Graves frowned.

"How do you lot get anything done, when you're all wrapped up in red tape?" He asked.

"Sir?"

Both aurors turned to find Auror Bennet approaching them slowly. Appearing apprehensive at his superiors' expressions, the man kept his hands behind his back as he squared his shoulders.

"What is it, Bennet?" Graves asked wearily.

"Auror Goldstein is here, saying her sister's been arrested?" He began hesitantly, as if not wanting to even believe the words he was saying. "She says you fired her when she tried to stop it?"

Graves sighed.

"She got here faster than I thought," he mused.

"Newt probably helped," Theseus reminded the man.

"Oh yeah, that other fella, Newt, is here too," Bennet recalled, causing Theseus to step forward.

"That 'other fella' is my brother," he spoke firmly, causing Auror Bennet to shut his mouth straight away. "And I will deal with him."

"I guess I'll have to deal with Tina," Graves admitted, wanting to get this over and done with.

"So, it's true?" Bennet queried in disbelief before clearing his throat.

"Sir, as family, Tina does have the right to-"

"Not under these circumstances Bennet," Graves told him brusquely as he brushed past with Theseus.

"Guard that door, Bennet," Graves ordered over his shoulder.

"You mean, Queenie?" Bennet asked, incredulous. "She's a sweetheart!"

"She's an informant!" Graves shouted back before disappearing from sight.

Taking out a wand, Bennet unlocked the door and stepped inside the small room, finding Queenie already standing, facing him expectantly.

"Mrs Kowalski," the man greeted slowly. "I'm so sorry this has happened to you."

~..~..~..~..

Graves and Theseus made their way towards the elevators, where Newt and Tina stood, being waylaid by a few of the junior aurors.

"This has all been simply a gross misunderstanding," Newt was doing his best to stay civil while the junior Aurors pointed wands in his direction.

"I have the right to see my sister, Auror or not!" Tina was being more demanding, though, thankfully, she hadn't yet drawn her wand.

Graves could tell the younger aurors were struggling to understand how a woman who had been part of the team only yesterday was now, apparently, practically an outcast.

"Alright everyone, wands down," Graves ordered as he made it to the group. "I'll deal with Miss Goldstein."

"All of you, either back to your work, or call it a night," Theseus commanded and slowly, and with many inquiring glances in their direction, the junior aurors moved away.

"I want to see my sister," Tina demanded, tears beginning to fill her eyes in a mixture of fear and desperation.

"I'm afraid that's not possible at this point in time, Miss Goldstein." Graves spoke calmly.

"She hasn't done anything wrong!" Tina insisted.

"Perhaps we should take this-" Graves tried to steer the woman away from the curious gazes of the other aurors but Tina wrenched her arm free.

"No, here's fine," she countered. "Now: is my sister a legilimens? Yes," she admitted. "Is she a threat to society? _No_. You have no right to hold her like this."

Graves continued to regard the woman with a measured gaze.

"This is why you lost your job, Goldstein," Graves told her. "You think with your heart. Now, your sister may have information-"

"May. That's just it. _May_." Tina countered. "Queenie can't control what she hears, and if she had anything useful regarding capturing Grindlewald, don't you think she would have told me, or any of us, before now? Believe me, Sir," Tina pleaded, "even if you gave her veritiserum, there is nothing useful Queenie could tell you that you don't already know."

Seeing how Graves' expression remained neutral, Tina figured she was talking to a brick wall.

"If that's the case, we'll likely let her go after we interrogate her," Graves stated. "But I'll be the one to decide whether the knowledge she has is of any use."

"Likely?" Tina echoed. "You can't hold her forever."

"Rest assured, Miss Goldstein," Theseus intervened, "your sister will be treated fairly."

"You and I appear to have different ideas about what constitutes 'fair,' Auror Scamander," Tina's voice was tight.

"Tina," Newt spoke up quietly, "please be careful, you don't want to end up in a cell yourself."

"Sound advice," Theseus said flatly, turning his eyes onto his brother. "You're lucky you're not in cuffs right now, Newt."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Newt muttered.

"And where's your case?" Theseus asked suspiciously noticing the missing item for the first time.

"Did you really think I'd bring it with me? Here?" Newt countered, giving his brother a look that showed that the younger Scamander was not ready to fully forgive or trust his brother yet.

' _Was it Theseus who broke into my case?'_ Newt wondered, a little fearful of the answer.

At that moment, the elevator 'dinged' behind them, and their group turned at the sound in time to witness Auror Delacroix, Deputy Cousteau and the French delegation enter the room.

"It seems I was mistaken when I was told we would be working _together_ to find and capture _Monsieur_ Grindlewald," Delacroix's voice was like ice as she regarded the American and British Head Aurors.

"Auror Delacroix," Theseus greeted quickly. "Apologies for leaving so quickly, but a development arose and-"

" _Oui_ , I am aware," she cut the man off as she glanced at Newt and Tina. "And I must say I highly question your judgement."

Theseus frowned.

"Well, I think-"

"But you do not think," Delacroix stated coolly. "Either of you. You act without thinking, only seeing the outcome you wish, not the outcome that will most likely occur."

Theseus swallowed.

"My apologies for any offense taken due to my actions," he began carefully, still mindful of the junior aurors listening in. "Perhaps we-"

"There is no 'we,'" Delacroix hissed. "You both have made that quite clear. Therefore," she drew herself up, "I will be returning to Paris with my team. Grindlewald has been discovered in _France_ ," she reminded the two men before her. "Perhaps you should be focusing on _him_ , rather than your own short-sighted ideas of entrapment and blackmail."

"We _are_ focusing on Grindlewald," Graves stated firmly.

"Then why is the only person you've managed to capture, a baker's wife?" Delacroix spat before turning to re-enter the elevator.

Deputy Auror Cousteau smirked as he regarded the shocked expressions on the faces of the American and British Head Aurors.

"Now you know why the juniors call her 'wildcat,'" he told them before moving to join his team before the elevator doors closed.

"Both of you: get out," Theseus ordered after a moment, turning to Newt and Tina once more. "We have more important things to be concerning ourselves with. I'm sorry, Miss Goldstein," he added, "but your sister is not more important than capturing Grindlewald, and she may have the information we need to do so."

"But-" Tina protested, only to have Graves raise a hand to stop the words before she'd formed them.

"We'll get someone to escort you out," he said dismissively.

"I'll do it sir," Bennet volunteered, stepping forward.

Graves nodded distractedly, as he and Theseus headed back to the interrogation room.

It wasn't until they had reached the corridor that Graves stopped dead in his tracks.

"What is it?" Theseus wondered.

"We left Bennet here to guard the door," Graves stated, looking ahead at the empty corridor.

"Yes, and then he volunteered to escort Tina and Newt out of the Ministry," Theseus granted before frowning.

"So, who was guarding the door in the mean time?" He pondered, seeing his counterpart's concern.

"My Aurors never leave their posts," Graves grit his teeth as he strode forward to pull open the interrogation room door, Theseus right behind him.

"What?" Theseus demanded, upon spying the empty room before turning furiously to Graves. "Your Auror Bennet helped her to escape?"

"No," Graves stated surely. Gritting his teeth in frustration as he turned to Theseus.

"In fact," he added, "I don't even think that was Bennet."

~..~..~..~..

"Well, I think that went rather smoothly," Dumbledore spoke up as he led the way into his office at Hogwarts.

"You must have played Bennet well, Mr Dumbledore," Tina commended. "I hope he doesn't get in trouble for your act though."

"Oh, I'm a good actor, if I may say so. And the two of you played your roles brilliantly as well," Dumbledore said graciously as he leaned casually against his desk. "As for Auror Bennet, I think he'll be fine, as most of the American Aurors can attest to him being at the Leaky Cauldron whilst we were at the Ministry."

Newt quickly placed his case on the ground and opened it to allow Queenie, Jacob and Credence to climb out.

"Thank you for helping us, Professor," Newt told his former teacher as Tina hugged her sister, her brother-in-law and Credence in relief.

"Though you do realise this could mean you get arrested for this?"

"On what proof?" Dumbledore asked. "As far as anyone here knows, I've been doing my class planning ever since I returned from the book promotion. However," he continued more seriously, casting his eyes over those in the room, "It will not take long for them to notice Queenie's disappearance and come looking for you all."

Silence descended as everyone looked at each other in apprehension, no one brave enough to speak first.

"Newt," Dumbledore spoke up. "I need you to go to France to track down Grindlewald."

"Me?" Newt echoed. "I'm hardly an investigator."

"No, you're a tracker," Dumledore stated proudly. "And I can't leave Hogwarts this close to the new school term. You and Auror Goldstein have already faced Grindlewald once, you can do it again. Or, are you going to leave it to the likes of Graves and your brother, who don't care who gets in their way?"

Newt lowered his eyes. He just wanted to keep Credence safe, find his missing niffler, care for his creatures and get his book published.

"I can't move against Grindlewald," Dumbledore entreated. "And those such as Graves and Theseus will be just as likely to hurt innocents as the guilty, in their quest. But you, Newt: you always do the right thing, like a true Hufflepuff. It has to be you."

Newt took a deep breath, swallowing hard as Tina and Queenie met each other's eyes, a silent communication seeming to flicker between them.

"Will you be going to go back to America, Tina?" Newt asked slowly, fearful of the answer. "You could, if you wanted to-"

"The only thing I had in America was my job and I don't even have that anymore," Tina cut over him, her eyes becoming far away for a moment before steeling. "Regardless of whether you go, Newt, I'm going to Paris," she announced.

"Really?" Newt raised his eyes hopefully.

"Grindlewald was spotted there," Tina nodded resolutely, keeping her expression that of simple determination. "I may not be an auror anymore but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop investigating."

Newt let out a small breath, swallowing as he lowered his gaze once more.

"Good idea," Queenie nodded. "I'll go with you. I can't stay here," she argued upon seeing the expressions on those around her. "They'll keep coming after me."

"Alright," Jacob nodded, gearing himself up. "I guess the bakery will have to wait."

"Actually, Jacob," Dumbledore considered, "I don't think you have much to worry about. You haven't done anything wrong, and, as you're a muggle, even with an exemption, there's not much the Ministry can do to you."

"I'm going with my wife," Jacob objected immediately.

"And what about Credence?" Dumbledore spoke up, causing the attention to turn to the quiet young man who stood warily near the window, watching the scene before him attentively, if a little anxious.

"The school term is resuming soon, and, as Credence is not an official student, he cannot stay here," the professor met the baker's eyes earnestly. "Neither Graves nor Theseus knows what Credence looks like. He is still safe. And as you are a muggle, Jacob, so are you. Where will Credence go if you all travel to France?"

"He has a point, Honey," Queenie was reluctant to admit as she wrapped her husband up in a close hug. "It won't be safe, for either of you."

"I don't want to be _safe_ ," Jacob insisted, pulling back to look his wife in the eye. "I want to be with _you_."

Queenie kissed her husband, holding him like a lifeline.

"Credence needs someone to take care of him while we're gone," Tina insisted, moving to hug the young man in question.

"I'm sorry, you can't come with us, Credence," she told him sadly. "But our job is to protect you, and that means keeping you as far away from Grindlewald as we can."

Credence stayed silent, but hugged Tina tightly, as if afraid to let go of the woman who had always stood up to him, even if it meant risking her job.

'It _has_ cost Tina her job,' he reminded himself and Credence's throat tightened painfully as he realised, yet again, just how much his friends were sacrificing to keep him safe.

"And what if Grindlewald ends up coming here?" Jacob countered, taking a firm grip of his wife's hand.

"He won't," Dumbledore stated.

"Really?" Jacob was sceptical. "You sure about that?"

"Yes," Dumbledore's voice brooked no argument.

"So, what?" Jacob asked the room. "Just because I'm not a wizard, I have to stay behind?"

"No, that's not it at all, Jacob. But it would probably be harder for the Ministry to find us if we split up." Newt was quick to step forward as he could see his friend was becoming upset. Understandable, as the man was likely about to say goodbye to the woman he married just the previous day, for an unspecified length of time.

"Grindlewald is in France, trying to find obscurials, build up support and overthrow the Statute of Secrecy." Newt stated, casting his eyes over the group. "So, we need you, Credence and Dumbledore to work on this side and Tina, Queenie and I will work on the French side."

"Oh, so you _are_ coming to Paris?" Tina asked, eyebrows raised.

The magizoologist regarded Tina warily. "Yes," he answered simply.

Queenie pursed her lips as if to hold in a comment as her eyes flickered between Newt and her sister.

'Not the time,' she told herself, lowering her eyes.

"Work?" Credence spoke up for the first time. "Doing what?"

"The same thing we'll be doing," Queenie chimed in, "investigating and gathering information."

"Keep an eye on the papers," Tina spoke up, "we'll need to know anything relating to what our Ministry or MACUSA might be up to here."

"Even the muggle papers," Newt added to Jacob. "In times of crises, our Minister often speaks to the Muggle Prime Minister for assistance and information, to help keep both muggles and wizards safe. There may be sudden changes in activity, or there may be some strange deaths occurring, like the attack of the hospital in France. We'll need to know if any of Grindlewald's fanatic followers are becoming active here."

"If I stay here, Graves and Theseus can just break into our apartment and arrest me again," Queenie reminded her husband. "But they can't do anything to you, and Credence needs to be taken care of."

~..~..~..~..

Theseus and Graves apparated outside the Hogwarts gates. Graves impatiently sent his patronus flying towards the castle.

"They'd better let us in," he muttered.

~..~..~..~..

Credence started as a silver eagle flew through Dumbledore's office window.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore," Graves' voice emanated from the great bird hovering in the middle of the room. "Head Aurors Scamander and Graves require entry to the castle. We have a warrant. If you refuse, you will be arrested for impeding an investigation."

There was silence as the image dissipated.

"Oh, I was wondering how long it would take them to get here," Dumbledore chuckled.

"Sir-," Newt began in concern for his professor.

"Not now, Newt," Dumbledore threw some floo powder onto the fireplace, and in moments, Professor Batini appeared, dusting ash off her dressing gown.

"Can this not wait till morning, Albus?" The woman asked sleepily, pausing mid yawn as she spotted everyone in the room.

"Good evening," she greeted slowly.

"I'm so sorry to wake you, Batini," Albus said quickly. "But Head Aurors Graves and Scamander are at the gate, and-"

"Are we playing 'waylay the Aurors' again?" She asked curiously, fully awake now.

"Yes," Dumbledore stated. "At least for as long as it takes to get Credence and his friends out safely."

"Alright. What?" She queried the incredulous looks of Tina and Jacob. "I know better than most that it's a legal system, not a justice system. So, I'm happy to help _justice_ in any way I can. How much time do you need?" She asked Dumbledore.

"As much as you can give me," Dumbledore said. "Bring them here, to my office, though."

"Understood," Batini moved to hug Credence affectionately. "See how many people care about you?" She whispered to him. "Know that you are always loved, Credence. You have a family. Use that as your strength. You will need it, I feel, in order to get through what is to come."

Credence hugged his professor close before she disappeared out the office door towards the school gates.

"Why didn't they send that patronus to the Headmaster, if they have a warrant?" Tina queried.

"No doubt they meant to intimidate me, as if that would work. Or else, it's a bluff," Dumbledore chuckled lightly before becoming business-like.

"Now Newt," he began, "do you know of the Room of Requirement?"

"Yes," Newt admitted, for he'd hid several of his creatures in that room during his time at Hogwarts.

"Good," Dumbledore rushed to the door, leading the way. "Follow me!"

"What's the Room of Requirement?" Tina asked as they ran through the corridors, Jacob barely taking in the moving paintings, secret staircases or silvery ghosts as he raced to keep up, still holding Queenie's hand.

"It's a room that's invisible unless you need it," Newt huffed, clutching his case tightly. "And it will contain anything you need for your purpose."

"And it's right….here!" Dumbledore announced in triumph as he came to a halt in front of a plain stone wall.

"What?" Jacob asked in confusion.

"A room that's invisible until you need it," Newt reiterated and Jacob nodded as Dumbledore began to pace in front of the wall until a large door appeared in the brickwork.

"Alright," Dumbledore said, opening the door. "Go through the secret passageway on the other side, behind the painting," he instructed as they filed through. "You'll end up at the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade."

"The Hog's Head?" Newt repeated curiously.

Dumbledore shrugged. "How else do you think I get such a steady supply of my favourite brandy?"

No one could comment as the door was quickly shut behind them.

"Over here," Tina lead the way across the small room to where a painting of what looked like a garden path hung on the wall.

When they pulled on the painting however, the frame didn't move.

"It's locked?" Queenie asked.

"Do we need a password?" Tina wondered.

"Now what?" Jacob asked.

"We're still safe in here," Newt reminded them.

"But we're stuck," Jacob stated.

But Credence was studying the painting and noticed a figure walking towards them along the path.

"Newt," he called, gesturing to the picture.

"Oh, someone has to come and get us," Newt realised. "Well spotted Credence. Hello," he greeted the figure as they approached, which looked to be a young teenage girl with blond hair.

The girl gave a kind of dreamy smile in greeting.

"Professor Dumbledore told us you could help us get out of the castle," Newt prompted. "Will you open the passageway for us?"

Smiling again, the painting swung open to reveal a tunnel.

"Thank you!" Newt sighed in relief as he led the way down the tunnel.

Upon reaching the far end, Newt pushed open the door to find himself climbing down into a small kitchen and dining room. Despite it being so late it was early, lamps were still lit around the room and drunken laughter could be heard through a nearby wall.

"We appear to be right next to the Hog's Head pub," he informed his friends as they climbed down into the room. Credence, being the last, closed the door behind them, to find the blond girl, once again, staring back at him from the painting with that dreamy smile.

"Maybe we can sneak out through the pub?" Tina queried.

Before anyone could move, a goat trotted through the door, freezing upon sight of them and letting out a bleat.

'Wasn't expecting that,' Jacob thought. Although really, after everything he'd seen after meeting Newt, should he be all that surprised to see a goat in a house?

"Where'd you run off to, you silly goat?" A voice called and the group didn't have time to hide before a tall, scruffy man followed the goat into the room and froze.

"Who're you?" He demanded gruffly, his blue eyes turning steely. "What're you doing in my house?"

"So sorry for the intrusion," Newt spoke up quickly. "Professor Dumbledore-"

"Oh," the man stated flatly as he raised an eyebrow. "My brother sent you over here, did he?"

"I'm Newt Scamander," Newt greeted. "And you are?"

"Oh, you're the kid with all the creatures," Mr Dumbledore ignored the cue for an introduction and simply regarded Newt with interest, if a little scepticism.

"Yes," Newt admitted, although he didn't like being called 'kid.' "Er, Professor Dumbledore never mentioned it was _his brother_ who ran the Hog's head."

"I'm not surprised," The man stated as more drunken laughter could be heard through the wall. "My brother's good at 'not mentioning' things. Likes to keep his hands clean, he does. Or at least," his eyes travelled to the painting on the wall, "he likes people to think he keeps his hands clean."

Queenie gasped.

"Oh," she breathed as her eyes widened.

"Queenie?" Tina asked warily, wanting to keep moving. They needed to leave.

But the blond woman moved to place her hand on Mr Dumbledore's arm.

"I'm so sorry," she said in condolence before moving over to the painting. "Ariana's a beautiful name," she spoke up, studying the girl.

"What did you say?" Mr Dumbledore's gaze went straight to Queenie, accusingly.

"Ariana," Queenie repeated softly. "It's a beautiful name."

"Yes," Mr Dumbledore mumbled, gazing at the painting. "And she was a beautiful girl. But how did you…?"

"Queenie's a legilimens," Newt supplied quickly.

"Oh, I see," Mr Dumbledore studied Queenie carefully before his gaze moved to the painting again.

"Credence," Queenie reached for his hand. "Ariana was like you."

"What?" Credence asked.

"What?" Mr Dumbledore frowned.

"Credence is like Ariana," Queenie told their reluctant host. "We're trying to help him."

"Really?" He stated, studying Credence for the first time, taking in his face and posture.

Slowly, he reached out a hand.

"Aberforth Dumbledore," he introduced himself.

"Credence Barebone," Credence stammered nervously, staring at Aberforth, his eyes pleading for more information.

"This is our little sister, Ariana Dumbledore," Aberforth gestured to the painting.

"Was she really an obscurial?" Newt asked, his scientific curiosity piqued to the point of momentarily forgetting they were in the middle of an escape.

"Didn't know much about obscurials back then," Aberforth granted, "but she was never the same after those muggle boys attacked her. They'd seen her practising magic, spying through the hedge I n the back garden. She was a kid: only six years old, she couldn't control it. No witch or wizard can at that age. What they saw, scared them, I expect. They forced their way through the hedge, and when she couldn't show them the trick, they got a bit carried away trying to stop the little freak doing it."

Credence flinched.

' _Here you go, Freak,_ ' Senator Shaw's voice reverberated in his mind…

"Three big boys against a little girl," Aberforth shook his head. "She was terrified, after that. My father went after the bastards that did it and attacked them. They locked him up in Azkaban for it. He never said why he'd done it, because if the Ministry had known what Ariana had become, she'd have been locked up in St Mungo's for good..."

"Like the French boy, Luis,' Tina recalled, taking hold of Credence's hand and squeezing it in assurance. At least Credence was free.

"We had to keep her safe and quiet," Aberforth continued his story. "We moved house, put it about she was ill, and my mother looked after her: tried to keep her calm and happy. When it got too much for Ariana, she'd just- _explode_. I was the only one who could calm her down. She'd help me feed the goats." His eyes became far away in memory. "She liked the goats."

Credence remembered helping Newt feed the mooncalves on his first visit to the case. He liked helping Newt care for his creatures…

Credence stared at Ariana's painting in wonder. She was clearly a teenager. Another obscurial, like him, he marvelled, who had made it past ten years old…

He wasn't the first, he realised. He may still be the oldest known, but he wasn't the only one…

"Obscurials aren't known to live past the age of ten," Newt stated, as if he'd read Credence's mind. "Credence was thought to be the only one older."

"Well, Ariana made it to fourteen," Aberforth told them sombrely. "Reckon she could've made it farther, if Grindlewald hadn't…"

"Grindlewald?" Tina repeated quickly. " _He_ killed your sister?"

"Don't know who killed my sister," Aberforth confessed slowly, his pained eyes travelling to Credence. "We were all duelling, you see. It was mad."

"All?" Tina repeated slowly.

"Professor Dumbledore said he was friends with Grindlewald when he was younger," Newt recalled, a suspicion rising in his mind.

"Aye, and that power-hungry bastard got real interested in Ariana once he realised how strong she was," Aberforth growled. "Albus didn't want to see it, of course," he added. "He let his pride blind him to what his friend was turning into. I hated him for it. I confronted him, saying he cared more about his own glorious ambitions than his own sister. Next thing you know all three of us are duelling, spells flying everywhere… then the dust clears… and Ariana's…" The man bowed his head. "Gellert disappeared after that," he concluded, shaking himself slightly. "And we never heard from him again, until he popped up in the papers."

'That's why Grindlewald is so interested in obscurials,' Newt realised, his theory confirmed, catching Tina's eye to see the same comprehension dawning in her eyes. 'He first learned about them from Ariana.'

Aberforth turned, regarding Credence pensively.

"Maybe that's why Albus wants to help you," he mused. "Thinks he can get some kind of redemption. He couldn't save Ariana," Aberforth stated bitterly. "So, for your sake, I sure hope he does a better job with you."

"They called me 'Freak'," Credence remembered, Senator Shaw's face resurfacing in his mind. He turned his eyes onto Ariana's painting once more.

"Are we freaks?" He asked slowly, fearful of the answer.

All his friends moved to comfort him, but it was Aberforth who stepped forward to grip the young man's shoulder gently until Credence' dark eyes met the older man's pale blue ones.

" _No_ ," Aberforth stated simply and with such surety that Credence appeared to slump slightly in relief.

Aberforth turned his eyes slowly back to Newt.

"What do you need for him?" He asked, nodding in Credence's direction.

"We need to get Credence and Jacob safely hidden back in London," Newt answered, gesturing to his friends. "And the three of us need to get to Paris. Undetected by the Ministry."

Aberforth considered this with a frown, before his eyes landed on Credence, who simply stared at him with a mixture of hope and anxiety.

"Please help," he whispered.

"Oh, alright," Aberforth sighed gruffly. The boy's expression reminded him too much of Ariana. "But just to be clear: I'm doing this for the boy, not for my brother," he stated for the record before drawing his wand. "I'll make a portkey, it'll be quicker and safer, for the muggle," he put forward nodding in Jacob's direction. "Yes, I can tell," he answered the unspoken question in the baker's face.

"A portkey? Do you have a permit for that?" Tina asked out of habit, only to be served a look.

"You an Auror?" Aberforth questioned, eyebrows raised.

"No," Tina admitted reluctantly, lowering her eyes.

"Then what's it to you?" Aberforth asked before gesturing the group to follow him.

~..~..~..~..

"Dumbledore?" Theseus called as Batini led the aurors into the wizard's office.

"Auror Graves. Auror Scamander." Albus greeted from the staircase to his office and apartment, in dressing gown and slippers, in all appearances having just got out of bed.

"To what do I owe the honour of having two Head Aurors visiting me so late at night?"

"You're under suspicion in aiding a suspect to escape this evening," Graves stated without preamble.

"Suspicion?" Dumbledore repeated, rubbing his eyes as he made his way down the staircase. "How so, may I ask? Rather difficult, when one's asleep."

"Can you confirm your whereabouts this evening, Mr Dumbledore?" Theseus asked, trying to be more professional.

"I was at Newt's book promotion," Dumbledore sighed, leaning against his desk. "Then I came here afterwards. Tried to get my planning done for the next term. Still not finished," he shook his head. "Term starts in a matter of days."

"Did you notice Newt leaving?" Graves asked impatiently.

"Yes, he left in rather a hurry after you and your aurors left," Dumbledore nodded. "I tried to find him, to ask what was happening, but he'd already gone. Why did your aurors leave so quickly?" Dumbledore asked curiously. "I was told you were there to protect and support your brother and his guests on his big night, Theseus. Rather strange, that you left before the night was finished. I spoke to your mother, Rhiannon, and she felt it was rather strange as well. Oh, by the way: she mentioned hosting a New Year's celebration when the time came, wondering if you could attend. I don't suppose you'd wish me to pass on your answer?"

Graves grit his teeth.

Dumbledore was doing it again…

~..~..~..~

"Well, that went nowhere," Theseus stated brusquely once Batini had released the wards on the gate to let them out. "Why did you suspect Dumbledore anyway?"

"Newt and Tina needed someone to disguise themselves as Bennet in order to get Queenie out." Graves stated the obvious. "Who better than a transfiguration teacher? The same one teaching the obscurial?"

"There's no proof. It could've been the husband, for all we know!" Theseus argued. "You don't need to be a wizard to have magic put on you and Tina's a skilled auror. _She_ could've put the disguise on Jacob, he walks in while they distract up front, saves his wife and walks out with Newt and Tina."

"Grindlewald is interested in Dumbledore," Graves stated with forced patience. "Dumbledore is interested in Newt, and Newt is interested in Credence."

"And Grindlewald is also interested in Credence," Theseus nodded. "You're not the only one seeing the links here, but Graves, I think Delacroix did have a point: We're lowering our gaze. It's getting too convoluted."

"We need to get a lead _now_ ," Graves snarled.

"And we've got one!" Theseus reminded Graves, grabbing his associate's arm to get his attention. "The hospital Grindlewald attacked in France," Theseus reminded his American counterpart. "Look, I understand there are connections between the obscurial, the Goldsteins and my brother," he granted, "but running around after the small leads is taking us further away from Grindlewald, not closer. It's making us look incompetent," he finished distastefully.

"Delacroix did have a point," Theseus reiterated. "We're trying to find leads that will take us to Grindlewald and the only person we got was a baker's wife. And she escaped."

Graves sighed, running a hand down his face as he took in this new perspective.

' _You act without thinking, only seeing the outcome you wish, not the outcome that will most likely occur,'_ Delacroix's words from earlier came back.

'What the hell has happened to you, Graves?' the American auror wondered. 'I was held prisoner by Grindlewald for months', he answered himself bitterly.

'No excuse for sloppy work,' Graves countered in his mind, squaring his shoulders.

"Queenie still escaped custody," he stated firmly.

"I'll get a couple of juniors to swing by and pick her up," Theseus said, grateful his colleague was calming down. "As for us, I suggest we head to Paris. We've got to follow the big lead not the red herrings."

Graves sighed.

"Paris," he acquiesced reluctantly.

"I'll arrange a portkey as soon as possible," Theseus assured quickly. "Make sure your team is ready."

'Delacroix will likely curse us on sight,' he thought before apparating.

Walking through the Ministry doors, Theseus was confronted by a very stressed junior auror.

"Sir," she said as she rushed towards him, waving what appeared to be a letter. "Urgent news from Gringots bank."

~..~..~..~..

Leta strode as confidently as she could through the dim corridors. The decor reminded her of the dungeons and Slytherin Common room at Hogwarts, so she knew it wasn't the surroundings that caused the sickening anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

Approaching an entrance way, she was stopped by a pair of wizards who were guarding either side of the door.

"What do you want?" one of the guards asked, drawing a wand in warning.

Leta raised her hands to show she was unarmed.

"I believe I am expected," she stated calmly.

Turning, one of the guards went through the archway, while the second kept his wand pointing at Leta's heart. Leta heard echoing footsteps before a muffled conversation took place.

With a series of echoing footsteps, the guard reappeared at the entrance way.

"She can come in," he announced, and the other guard, reluctantly lowered his wand.

"Sorry you couldn't hex me, Boot," she told the man as she passed him to enter the chamber beyond.

"Next time, then, Lestrange," the man assured her.

The room Leta entered was cavernous in the extreme. Built much like a large amphitheatre, or lecture hall, a large stage stood before row upon row of tiered seating, that reached above her head towards the high ceiling.

People were moving about the large room, casting spells of secrecy and misdirection, and barely gave Leta a glance as she walked down to towards the stage area where a man was standing, gazing out over the cavernous room.

"Ah, Leta, perfect timing," Grindlewald greeted with a charming smile that made the woman's stomach clench with renewed apprehension. "I trust you have what we agreed upon?"

Leta reached into her bag and brought out Newt's niffler.

"Ingenious," Grindlewald smiled.

The niffler squirmed as it tried to get out of Leta's grip, but she held it firm as Grindlewald waved his wand, and a bag appeared on the floor. Opening it, Grindlewald gestured to Leta.

"Empty the gold in here."

"You don't just want the niffler?" Leta queried. "It'll draw less attention."

"This gold will be shared out soon enough, and I can't risk the beast escaping," he gestured to the bag again, and Leta turned the niffler upside down, tickling its stomach, as she'd seen Newt do, causing a veritable avalanche of gold coins, jewellery, silver chalices, and precious gemstones to flow into the case, that, much like Newt's, had been magically enlarged on the inside to hold as much as needed.

"Newt is quite the inspiration, isn't he?" Grindlewald appeared to be following Leta's train of thought as she shook the last gold galleons out of the niffler and into the case.

Leta avoided making eye contact as she coaxed the niffler back into her handbag by tossing in her earrings, before snapping it shut and spelling it closed.

"Well done, Leta," Grindlewald smiled. "Now, you should return to work, so you are not suspected," Grindlewald instructed. "I'll also need you to help inhibit the investigation."

"Yes, Sir," Leta answered carefully.

"Though you are more than welcome to stay for the gathering," Grindlewald gestured to the large room. "None have visited this particular hall in centuries and I do love history and a bit of dramatic flair." He smiled again. "Besides, there is only so much you can do for a cause by visiting _individuals_. For people to see the strength of support they need to see how many people believe in the same ideals." He nodded in anticipation. "People need to _see_ to understand the strength of the cause."

Leta swallowed.

"As you say, Sir," she began, "if I do not turn up to work at Gringots, I may be suspected."

Grindlewald reached out a hand and tilted Leta's chin up so that she was looking him in the eye.

"Such a Slytherin you are, Leta," Grindlewald told her softly. "Does Newt know that it was his old flame who stole one of his precious creatures?"

Leta stiffened.

"No, of course not," Grindlewald answered on her behalf as he released her. "Oh, by the way," he caught her attention once more. "Your parents were able to torture some very useful information out of a young wizard the other day."

Leta swallowed.

"Don't worry, there are more gifts one can posses than… interrogation creativity," Grindlewald smiled. "And I try to ensure that each of my followers has their gifts recognised and utilised accordingly. You, my dear," he told earnestly, "are useful in your own way. No need to compare yourself with your parents."

He dismissed her with a gesture and the woman was quick to leave.

Turning, he made his way through a doorway off the side of the stage, placing the bag carefully into his inside pocket as he walked.

He knew it took more than passionate words to convince people to a cause, and the gold Leta had obtained for him meant his followers could get their desired pay day.

He smiled. However, if the information obtained by the Lestranges came to fruition, Grindlewald would get his own pay day within forty-eight hours.

~..~..~..~..

Jacob stood numbly inside his bakery. The walls looked the same. There were the pastries, scones and breads he'd been practising, ready for opening day on the first of January. But it suddenly felt very different. It felt _wrong_.

He'd only had time to kiss his wife goodbye before she'd had to hurry off, grasping the old whiskey bottle tightly.

"I'll come back as soon as the coast is clear, Honey" Queenie had promised in a rush, before she, Tina and Newt had disappeared, off to Paris.

Jacob felt his face crumple as he sat down on the floor with a bump.

"Oh, Queenie, stay safe, sweetheart," he mumbled through his fingers as he ran his hands down his face.

"They left us," a soft voice spoke.

Jacob slowly looked up. He'd forgotten Credence was there, but there he was, sitting, like him, numbly on the floor, tears beginning to fall down his face.

"They left us," he whispered again.

Jacob took a deep breath.

"No, Credence, they're investigating that hospital Grindlewald attacked," Jacob told him. "Problem is: the deeper they get into the investigation, the closer they get to Grindlewald. And I'm not a wizard," Jacob reminded the boy, "and you're the one Grindlewald's after. Not safe for us to be there." Jacob laughed without humour. "Not safe for them, either," he mumbled.

Credence whimpered and Jacob slowly moved to grasp the young man's shoulder.

"Hey," Jacob told him, "just 'cause our friends aren't in the room, or even the country, doesn't mean they're not still our friends, Credence. Friends and family protect each other, and that's what they just did: Trying to keep us out of harm's way." Jacob sighed before meeting Credence's eyes.

"Still hurts that they're gone though, doesn't it?" He asked. "I miss my wife so much it hurts my chest."

Credence nodded.

"But hey: who would take on a powerful dark wizard that scares the whole world, just to try to protect the ones they love? Newt, Tina and Queenie, that's who," Jacob told him. "You'll never meet better people than them. And you and me, pal, we're the home team back here," he reminded Credence. "You me and Dumbledore, we've got to keep an eye on things here, and make sure Graves and Theseus don't ruin things."

Meeting Credence's gaze, he held out a hand.

"We are a team, right Credence?"

Slowly, his hand shaking, Credence gripped Jacob's.

"Friends," He amended.

"You bet, pal," Jacob gave the best smile he could before sighing.

"Still hurts," Credence said softly.

"Still hurts," Jacob agreed. "We want to protect them as much as they want to protect us." The baker sighed. "I really wish I was a wizard. But I'm not. I wasn't born a wizard, and there's nothing I can do about it. What help am I, really?"

"You helped me," Credence put forward, gaining the baker's attention.

"Really?" Jacob asked.

Slowly, cautiously, Credence reached out to grasp Jacob's arm. Pausing, unsure, he then carefully leaned forward to lay his head on the baker's shoulder.

This small, timid gesture was too much for Jacob and he could feel himself choking up again as he wrapped an arm around Credence.

"Okay, pal," the baker stammered slightly, nodding. "We'll help each other, alright?"

"We'll help each other," Credence sniffed. "That's what friends and family are meant to do, right?"

"Yeah," Jacob agreed wholeheartedly through his tears.

"That's what families do."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I was trying to think how Queenie could be rescued, thinking of all these different scenarios, when really, I just thought: keep it simple, and coupled Dumbledore's trick of impersonating Bennet earlier in the story with the 'hiding in the case' trick the team used in the first movie._

 _And, I think it worked!_

 _Now, I realise the whole 'Room of requirement' and 'Aberforth' story line may seem a little far-fetched, so let me explain:_

 _We first learn about the Room of Requirement in GoF when Dumbledore says he found a room full of chamber pots when he took a wrong turn looking for the toilet. He then wondered aloud whether the room only appeared when the seeker 'had an exceptionally full bladder,' indicating that he knew full well what the room was for._

 _Second, we find that The Hog's head links to the Room of Requirement in Deathly Hallows, but while the students say the passageway didn't turn up until they wanted food, we have no way of knowing whether this was the first time it had ever appeared._

 _And also, I had originally planned for Dumbledore to tell this story to Credence himself, as a form of confession, I suppose, but I just didn't think it fit in the story anymore. But I felt, if anyone had the right to hear that story, Credence did. So instead I had Aberforth tell the story, just as he told Harry. (I did use bits from his dialogue in the seventh book, so anything you recognise does not belong to me.)_

 _I think it still works, as Dumbledore, wh,o as we know is a very private man, still feels he can keep his secrets to himself. We can see Aberforth, like Dumbledore, seeing a way to redemption by helping Credence stay safe. And we see Credence understanding that he really is not as alone as he thought he was, giving him more security in who he is._

 _Now, I had Leta giving the gold she stole to Grindlewald, because, let's face it, he's just escaped from prison and on the run, so how can he get gold for himself? He also promised Grimson the bounty hunter a giant pay-day in the last chapter, and needs to back that up. Unlike Voldemort, I think Grindlewald does understand the importance of taking care of those who follow him._

 _I can imagine Leta's family being all too eager to join Grindlewald's cause, however, when it comes to Leta herself, I can see her doing what she feels she needs to in order to survive, feeling she has no real choice, as opposed to genuinely believing in what she's doing._

 _And Grindlewald, sensing this, will not push Leta farther than she feels comfortable, for fear of losing a useful link to Newt, and in turn, Credence. When he was masquerading as Graves, remember, he was forging connections and emotionally manipulating with everyone he could, seeing the importance of understanding people and their motivations._

 _I also remember seeing a still from the Crimes of Grindlewald trailer, of Grindlewald standing in this huge underground amphitheatre-style room, facing a crowd of people. And I realised that, yes, you can't take over the world without an army, and the best way to 'inspire the masses' was to actually 'speak to the masses'._

 _I didn't want Queenie and Jacob to be separated, but felt it was the best thing, as Queenie was still a person of interest, who had escaped custody, so it really wasn't safe for her to remain in London, where Graves and Theseus were. Only when they left for Paris, would it be safe for her to return home._

 _I was thinking that Jacob would naturally want to go with his wife, but then, what about Credence? He couldn't go to Paris, as that would place him closer to Grindlewald, which was the last thing anyone wanted._

 _So, I had Jacob and Credence stay behind. And while I imagine Credence would be fighting the feeling of being abandoned, Jacob could be there to remind Credence that you sometimes can't always bee with those you care about, it doesn't mean they care about you any less._

 _Jacob is also a very kind and compassionate person, and so I wanted to give him a 'parenting moment' with Credence, to let him know that 'it's okay to not be okay,' while still reminding Credence he had people who cared about him._

 _Did that help clarify a few things? I hope it did._

 _Please review!_


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's note: Hi everyone! Chapter 15 and 16 were originally one chapter, but it was just so long I had to cut it into two._

 _Hope you like it!_

~..~..~..~..

Newt was in the middle of giving his creatures their morning feed when Tina ran out of the potting shed, having just returned from doing a quick scout of the local area. Queenie followed behind, carrying what looked like a bag of groceries. Taking out her wand, she began making breakfast.

"Newt, look at this," Tina handed him a newspaper and Newt was surprised to find he was looking at a copy of the Daily prophet.

"How did you find this in Paris?" He asked curiously.

"A newspaper stand was selling papers from all over the place," Tina answered quickly. "But look at the front page."

Newt opened up the paper and a large headline jumped out at him.

 **Gringots Bank Burgled**

Newt scanned the article with a frown.

'Multiple vaults had been thoroughly ransacked and emptied in one of the largest heists in history,' he read. 'Gringots Goblins are at a loss, as none of their booby traps had been triggered during the burglary.'

 _None of their traps had been triggered_ , Newt mused and felt suspicion turn to concern.

"My niffler?" he queried, hoping it wasn't the case, looking up to see Tina looking at him in sympathy.

Tina took a breath, gathering her courage.

"I think it may have been Leta who took your niffler, so she could steal the money from Gringotts," she stated carefully.

Newt felt his jaw drop.

"How do you suppose that?" He asked in shock. "I thought you, Tina, of all people…"

"What do you mean?" Tina asked.

"You've always given people the benefit of the doubt," Newt reminded her. "Me, Jacob, Credence…And yet, here, you think Leta stole the money, despite there not being _any_ evidence."

"But there _are_ connections," Tina argued, stepping forward. "Your niffler was stolen-"

"He could have simply escaped," Newt countered firmly.

"And have you been able to find him yet?" Tina countered. " _No_. You've always been able to track down your niffler, except for now. Which could mean: someone doesn't want him to be found."

"Tina-"

"And another thing," Tina continued, pointing to the paper. "Gringotts bank was robbed the evening you noticed your niffler missing. Yet no evidence from the investigation shows that magic was involved, and you and I both know how well that niffler moves through a bank."

"Niffler's steal anything shiny, so just because a niffler was a likely thief, doesn't mean there were people behind it." Newt argued.

"You think a niffler just _happened_ to find its way into Gringots Bank?" Tina asked.

"Nor does it mean it was _my_ niffler." Newt continued. "As I said in my presentation, those circus fellows were using nifflers to steal from their customers. There could be others doing the same."

"Exactly! Point number three," Tina exclaimed. "What if, instead of showcasing how bad it was to use nifflers to steal, you, unintentionally, gave someone an idea?"

Newt took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Even if that were the case," Newt began evenly, "what on earth makes you think Leta is the culprit? There were over a hundred people there."

Tina swallowed.

"She's in France at the moment," she stated, causing Newt to raise his eyes to hers.

"What?"

"We saw her here, in Paris, this morning," Tina gestured to herself and Queenie, the blond woman currently laying a small table.

"And what does that prove?" Newt asked turning to Queenie. "Did you get anything from her?" He asked.

Queenie finished serving up the breakfast with a sigh.

"I still have trouble with reading Brits," Queenie answered slowly. "I couldn't really read her at your presentation, Newt. It was like she had a smoke screen up, I couldn't get anything. But she had her guard down today. I don't think she realised anyone she knew was there."

"What did you get?" Newt pressed.

Queenie swallowed.

"Fear. She was afraid," she informed them. "I saw Grindlewald in her head."

"Everyone's afraid of Grindlewald," Newt countered.

"No, it was more than that," Queenie corrected carefully. "It was a memory of him speaking to her, but I was too far away to make out what he'd said."

"See?" Tina kept her eyes on Newt. "Point number four: Why would Grindlewald be talking to Leta?"

"Maybe she's been threatened?" Newt put forward. "Leta does work for Gringots, maybe he threated to-"

"Wait," Tina raised a hand. "Leta works for Gringots?"

"Yes," Newt informed her. "She works in the security department. So, you see," he put forward, "why would she steal from a bank, if it's her job to ensure its protection?"

"Maybe because she knows what the weak points are," Tina answered, her mind mulling over this new piece of information.

"Which may be why Grindlewald threatened her, because he needed the gold." Newt countered before frowning. "Why would he need gold?" He queried.

"Why does anyone need gold?" Tina answered, grabbing a croissant from the breakfast spread and making her way back to the potting shed.

"I'm going to do a tracking spell," Tina announced. "Find out what Leta was doing in Paris."

"Shouldn't we be going to the hospital today?" Newt asked.

"I went there already, and the place is still crawling with aurors, we won't be able to get close," Tina told him. "You want to know what happened to your niffler? Maybe there's a link here."

"Or not," Newt argued.

"Only one way to find out," Tina finished as she disappeared through the door.

Newt tried to keep his breathing level.

Leta would never… How could Tina think…

"Newt," a soft voice spoke up and Newt remembered that Queenie was still there.

"What?" He asked.

Queenie appeared to be arguing with herself about whether to say something, but decided against it.

"Did you see the article about your book promotion?" She asked brightly. "It covers two pages in the middle of the paper!"

Newt opened the Daily Prophet up completely, and was pleasantly surprised to find the story of his book promotion did indeed cover two pages, and was surprisingly very favourable. Several quotes from his presentation had been placed in bold lettering across the article, as well as photos from the event.

The main photo was of him on the stage, demonstrating with his nundu, Nala. But there were also photos of his niffler's antics, Professor Dumbledore and his new phoenix, his parents and his brother.

However, the photo that drew Newt's eye was an inset picture of himself, standing beside Tina Goldstein, who smiled proudly at him as a camera flashed. The photographic images of themselves appeared to be looking at each other more than the camera.

Tina…

Newt swallowed as an ache filled his chest when he remembered what had happened next. He had made that comment to Leta about Tina only being an acquaintance. Tina, who had helped him find his creatures in New York. Tina, who had shown more compassion to Credence in the subway than any of the other aurors. Tina, who had stayed at his family home for Christmas…

But still, he mused. How could Tina think that Leta was a thief, when all she had was that Leta had been at the promotion, she had Grindlewad on her mind, and worked for Gringots?

A part of him wondered if this was some kind of payback for his comment to Leta at the promotion, but Newt dismissed it. Tina would never be so petty.

Still, he considered, he really should join Tina in her investigation, even if it is simply to be assured of Leta's innocence.

He folded the paper and looked up to find Queenie holding out a croissant.

"I'll take care of your creatures down here, Honey," Queenie assured him. "You go on after Teenie."

Newt smiled, accepting the croissant and heading to the potting shed. Placing the paper on his desk, he shrugged into his coat before making his way up the ladder.

~..~..~..~..

Credence opened the oven, the sudden heat causing him to break into a sweat. Carefully, he reached in like Jacob had shown him earlier, his hands protected by a towel, and pulled out the bread rolls he had made, under the baker's guidance.

Placing the tray carefully on the bench, Credence then closed the oven door, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Alright, let's see," Jacob smiled as he came over and Credence stepped aside to let the baker inspect his work.

"Nice colour," Jacob nodded in approval as he began to tap the outside of the bread rolls. "Although, the best way to tell a good bread is not the colour, but the _sound_. Here, listen," Jacob lifted a roll near Credence's ear and gave it a tap.

"Did you hear that?" He asked eagerly. "That, kind of, 'hollow' sound?"

Credence nodded.

"That's the sign of a good bread," Jacob told him. "It means the dough rose well, nice and evenly, so it should be light and fluffy on the inside. If you hear a dull thud," Jacob continued his inspection, "then the dough didn't rise properly, and the bread will be dense and heavy."

Taking the roll, he then broke it in half, and Credence could actually see the steam rising from the roll, the warm, comforting smell making his mouth water.

"Oh, look at that," Jacob gushed, showing Credence the roll. "Crusty on the outside, fluffy on the inside. Perfect." Taking a bite, Jacob closed his eyes happily for a moment before offering the other half of the roll to Credence.

He took a bite, the roll warm in his mouth, and the texture was soft and crunchy at the same time.

"What do you think?" Jacob asked.

Credence nodded his approval, his mouth too full to speak and Jacob chuckled.

" _You_ made that, Credence," Jacob reminded him. "Well done, pal. We'll make a baker out of you, yet."

Credence swallowed.

"Thank you for teaching me, Jacob," Credence told him.

"My pleasure," The baker smiled. "Did you enjoy it?"

Credence nodded as he popped the last of the roll in his mouth. He'd never really been given the opportunity to make anything like this before. And while it had taken him a couple of tries to reach this successful batch, Jacob had proven to be a very patient and enthusiastic teacher.

"So, do you think you can make a dozen of those, every morning, ready for opening day?" Jacob asked.

Credence paused.

"A dozen every morning?" He repeated.

"That's what I'll be doing: have to practise. I want to hit the ground running with this place," Jacob said before sadness filled his expression. "I have to be busy, until Queenie gets back," he explained. "Otherwise I'll just sit around, worrying. At least, if I can get the bakery running, it'll be all ready for when she come's home."

Credence nodded.

"I'll practise every morning," he promised. It had been nice actually, he realised. He'd been enjoying learning magic with his teachers at Hogwarts, and had caused Professor Imamau to cheer when he'd successfully performed a Chameleon charm for the first time just the other day. But creating something without magic gave him a different feeling of accomplishment.

Could I have both? He wondered.

A hammering on the bakery door caused both Credence and Jacob to jump.

"You stay here, pal," Jacob told Credence before he moved to the kitchen door and entered the main shop.

While the glass in the windows and door of the storefront were still covered in newspaper, Jacob could see there were two people standing outside, their silhouettes visible through the newsprint in the morning light.

Cautiously, Jacob opened the door, to find a young man and woman standing on the pavement, who didn't look any older than Credence.

"Sorry, the bakery's not open yet," he told them. "We open on January first."

"Are you Mr Jacob Kowalski?" The woman queried.

"Who wants to know?" The baker asked.

"Aurors Williams and Owens," The man stated, as they both flashed badges. "We have a warrant for a Mrs Queenie Kowalski, who escaped custody last night."

Jacob shook his head.

"Sorry, there's no Queenie Kowalski here," he answered, and was thankful, for the first time, that Queenie was safely away.

"Do you mind if we have a look?" The woman, Auror Owens, asked.

"Do you have a warrant?" Jacob countered, doing his best to keep the defensiveness out of his voice.

The man, Auror Williams, frowned.

"You're preventing Aurors from investigating," he stated. "Do you realise you could be held accountable for impeding justice?"

"Did you seriously just threaten me?" Jacob asked slowly. He was getting tired of the so-called 'law enforcement' doing things to show power, rather than actually doing the right thing. "You think that, just 'cause I'm not a wizard, you can do what you like to me?" He shook his head. "No, I've got rights too," he stated.

"Oh, so you _are_ Mr Kowalski," Auror Williams grinned. "Good, I was starting to wonder if we'd been given the wrong address," he explained. "The information from the Muggle Relations Office was the only official place your address was kept, and it wouldn't be the first time there'd been a mix up."

Jacob stared.

"Seriously?" He stated.

The young auror shrugged.

"People reveal more when they're upset," he explained unapologetically.

"Ignore Williams," Auror Owens cut in quickly. "On the bright side, this means we don't have to obliviate you, as we've told you we're aurors." She gave her partner a look. "We're not supposed to mention that to muggles who don't have an exemption."

Auror Williams shrugged.

"That's what memory charms are for," he insisted.

"Look, Mr Kowalski, we do need to bring your wife in," Auror Owens reiterated firmly, but gently. "Escaping auror custody is an offense."

"Do you know why she was arrested in the first place?" Jacob shot back.

"Not our business to ask," Owens stated carefully. "But we know it was Head Auror Scamander who arrested her, so it is important that we-."

"Queenie's a legilimens," Jacob told them bluntly and the two junior aurors' eyes went wide with amazement. "She didn't _do_ anything, she just _is_. So, Auror Scamander takes her in, thinking he can get information from her. Which is stupid," he added, "because her sister is an auror on the American team. So, if she knew anything, she'd tell her sister, right?"

Auror Williams raised his eyebrows.

"Wow," he commented. "All they told us was 'she's an informant.'"

"'Informant' isn't a 'criminal,' is it?" Jacob stated. "They've got _nothing_ on her, she's got _nothing_ to tell them, and she's _not_ here. _That's_ what your 'Top Guy' did," Jacob told them. "He made her afraid to even come home, because she doesn't want to be taken advantage of."

Jacob hung his head, his anger turning to sorrow.

"She's afraid to even come home," he repeated.

Owens had a sympathetic expression and appeared to be wrestling with herself. This was the first time she'd been asked to do more than paperwork, and she wanted it to go well. But still, Gringots had been broken into, Grindlewald was in France, why was Auror Scamander getting them to track down a baker's wife, even if she was a legilimens?

Williams, on the other hand, appeared to make up his mind quickly.

"Well," he shrugged, "if Mrs Kowalski isn't here, we can't bring her in," he summed up breezily.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Kowalski," he said to Jacob, who appeared confused and sceptical as the pair moved off.

"Wait," Jacob called. ''Seriously? You're just leaving? Or are you going to come back with another warrant?" He asked suspiciously.

Auror Williams turned back to the baker.

"We're just the juniors," he gestured to himself and Owens. "It wouldn't be the first time they've sent us after a lead that went nowhere. Besides, with everything going on, I doubt they'll care too much about chasing after a baker's wife."

Auror Owens cleared her throat nervously.

"Have a good day, Mr Kowalski," she said by way of farewell before turning to leave with her partner.

Jacob watched them walk away for a few moments before slowly retreating back inside the bakery.

Moving into the bakehouse in the back, Jacob found Credence had gone.

"Credence?" Jacob called in concern.

Credence dropped his chameleon charm, causing Jacob to start.

"Nice disguise," he complimented with a grin, and Credence gave a shy smile.

"Are they gone?" He asked.

"Yeah," Jacob nodded in assurance, still surprised at the outcome. "Yeah, pal, they're gone."

~..~..~..~..

August was reading by the fire in the Slytherin common room when the door opened and professors Slughorn and Dumbledore entered.

August quickly stood up.

"Good morning, Professors," he greeted.

"Good morning, August, how are you my good man?" Slughorn asked.

"Well sir, thank you," August answered. "May I ask what brings you both to the common room?"

"Oh, as it's so close to the start of term, Credence has to return to live with his friends. But rest assured, he will continue to have his night classes here," Dumbledore informed the boy. "I'm just here to collect his belongings for him."

"Certainly sir," August gestured to the dormitories. "But why could he not collect them himself?"

"He had to leave urgently, I'm afraid," Dumbledore answered quickly. "Students will be arriving back over the next couple of days, and Credence can't stay."

Without another word, Albus swept passed and made his way to the dormitory.

Entering Credence's temporary room, he quickly got out his wand and began packing the young man's few possessions into his small case.

However, as he reached out a hand to close it, he paused.

Slowly, he passed a hand over the case.

'No…' he thought.

Using his wand, he muttered a spell and, from the depths of the case, something leapt out and hovered in the air before his eyes.

It was a necklace. The black cord was simple, but it was the pendant that caught Dumbledore's eye.

It seemed to be made of gold, though it was the symbol Albus focused on. It appeared to be a circle inside a triangle, with a vertical line through the centre.

" _Gellert_ ," he whispered.

~..~..~..~..

It didn't take Tina long before she found the area in which she and Queenie had spotted Leta Lestrange.

When Queenie informed her the woman was carrying a memory of speaking with Grindlewald, Tina had followed Leta until the woman had gone down an alleyway, turned a broken shoe into a portkey and disappeared.

Tina had raced forward to do a quick tracer-spell, which told her the portkey was connected to London, but nothing more.

Made sense, Tina figured. International apparation was always more difficult. The further you went, the higher chance you had of splinching yourself.

Tina wished she was still an auror, for she could have looked up the records to see if Leta had a permit or not. For if she didn't have a permit, then she wasn't here on official business.

What business did Leta have here in Paris anyway, if she works in London?

So, rather than focusing on where Leta was going, Tina thought to try and find out where she'd been.

Standing outside the patisserie where Queenie had bought the croissants for breakfast, Tina crossed the road to where they'd first seen Leta, hurrying along with her head down.

Tina was thankful of the Christmas gift Mrs Scamander had given her, as she was able to surreptitiously move her wand from the holster strapped to her arm and into her hand.

Tina took a breath. She had done a similar spell before, as an auror, in order to locate someone. But it had been done using the suspect's wand as the centre of the spell, making the wand find its owner by tracking their magic.

Now, she had to do a more difficult version of the spell, to try and follow where someone had _been_ , by tracing their magical footprint, as it were.

And Tina didn't have anything of Leta's to give the spell something to latch on to.

She knew powerful wizards, like Graves, could track magic easily, but she wasn't as naturally gifted.

Breathing deeply, Tina began circling her wand slowly, muttering the spell under her breath. This was a muggle street, she reasoned, so, if Tina simply asked for the spell to latch on to any magical person that had passed through this area recently, she should be able to lock onto Leta's 'foot prints.'

After a few minutes, however, Tina could tell it wasn't quite working.

She sighed in frustration.

"Tina!" a voice called and the woman turned to see Newt hurrying towards her, case in hand, as always.

Tina gathered herself. She knew she had hurt Newt by telling of her suspicions of Leta being connected with Grindlewald, but her instincts told her that something wasn't right.

And even though Newt didn't care for her more than a friend, she felt, as a friend, she should at least try and prevent him from being hurt again.

And she knew he must surely be worried about his niffler. And if someone had taken it to steal from Gringots, regardless if it was Leta, Tina wanted to help get the niffler back.

"Hi Newt," she greeted cautiously.

"For the record, I still don't believe that Leta took my niffler," Newt began and Tina nodded her understanding. "However, if she has been threatened by Grindlewald, I want to make sure she's safe."

Tina nodded, her throat tight.

Newt's mind was racing as he studied the emotions flickering across Tina's face.

"I also believe I still owe you an apology," he added quickly.

"What?" Tina asked.

"At the promotion," Newt began. "What you heard me tell Leta-"

"Oh, don't worry," Tina said quickly, swallowing. "I completely understand that-"

"It wasn't true," Newt blurted out and Tina stammered to a stop.

"What wasn't true?" She asked hesitantly.

"I told Leta you were no one, and that wasn't true," Newt said carefully, barely able to make eye contact. "You were in disguise, you couldn't be seen. I felt that if I downplayed who you were, it would help to hide you," he stammered, swallowing. "The truth is, you're one of the most extraordinary people I've met, Tina, and I don't want anything I said to make you feel as if you're not."

Tina gave a small smile.

"Thank you, Newt," she said. Though she noticed he had said nothing regarding whether he saw her merely as an acquaintance. Although, she thought hopefully, the fact he called her extraordinary must mean he thought more of her than an acquaintance, right?

'Snap out of it, Goldstein,' she berated herself. 'You've got work to do.'

"You're most welcome," Newt answered formally, smiling in relief. Does this mean she forgives his mistake? He had simply been trying to cover for her, after all.

"Now," he shook himself out of his thoughts to return to the matter at hand. "How do you plan to find where Leta went?"

"I've been trying to do a tracing spell," Tina informed him, "to latch on people with magical ability who have passed through here, recently. But the spell needs something connected to the person to lock on to."

"You mean, something like a strand of hair, like for a Polyjuice potion?" Newt queried.

"Or a personal item, like their wand, or a piece of clothing," Tina added.

"What about a photograph?" Newt asked, opening up his case and summoning his photo of Leta into his hand.

Tina looked at the picture and felt her throat clench.

"We'll try it," she agreed, holding the photo alongside her wand and tried the spell again.

In a matter of moments, a little ball of yellow light appeared at the end of Tina's wand.

"Yes!" Tina cheered, passing the photo back to Newt. Keeping her wand hidden carefully up her sleeve, allowing only the tip to extend past her finger tips, she pointed it first back along the pavement, where Leta had walked from, before pointing her wand in the direction she'd seen Leta going, taking note of the changes in colour and intensity in the ball of light.

"What is that?" Newt asked. "I've never heard of that spell."

"Trace-light." Tina explained. "It's a variation on the trace spell placed on school-age wizards that let the ministry know they've used magic. Aurors learn it in their final year of study to help track the movements of known perpetrators." Tina began to move off down the pavement, in the direction Leta had come from.

"This way," she called over her shoulder, and Newt was quick to follow.

~..~..~..~..

Jacob was teaching Credence how to make buttercream frosting when a knock sounded on the bakery door.

"Stay in the kitchen, Credence," Jacob warned and made sure the boy was out of sight before answering the door to find Professor Dumbledore standing outside.

"It's alright Credence," Jacob called as he invited the professor inside. "Come on out, it's Dumbledore."

Credence appeared in the door way cautiously.

"Good to see the two of you are being careful," Dumbledore said in approval. "I've just come to return Credence's possessions to him." Dumbledore placed the small case on the ground. "As you had to leave so quickly, we never had the time for you to get your things, Credence. The students are beginning to arrive for the new term," he explained. "I'm afraid you can no longer stay at the school."

"Am I still allowed to come to classes at night?" Credence asked, hope and fear written on his face in equal measure.

"Yes, of course," Dumbledore assured him. "I'll come and pick you up tonight for your class."

"Thank you, Sir," Credence said in relief.

Instead of taking his leave, however, Dumbledore seemed to hesitate.

"Credence, I don't mean to pry," Dumbledore began, "but while I was packing your things, I found something with Grindlewald's magic on it."

"What?" Jacob queried.

Dumbledore summoned the necklace once more from Credence's bag and it hung in the air between them.

"He gave that to me," Credence nodded. He'd almost forgotten he'd had that, and wondered why he'd kept it.

"What is that?" Jacob asked curiously.

"The pendant is not important," Dumbledore told them, "it's the magic been placed on it." He met Credence's eyes. "Why did he give this to you?" Dumbledore asked.

Credence swallowed.

"He told me I just had to touch the symbol, and he would know." Credence stammered. "He would know, and he would come."

Dumbledore nodded.

"A protean charm, coupled with a tracer spell," Dumbledore informed them surely. "You touch the symbol, with the intent of calling Grindlewald, and he'll likely have a duplicate that will grow warm, letting him know you're calling him. Then, there's a tracer on your symbol, so that he can apparate within, say, ten yards of wherever you are."

"Is that still working?" Jacob asked warily and Credence felt suddenly cold.

"Yes, I believe it is," Dumbledore answered.

Credence choked on a gasp. He could have accidently summoned Grindlewald to him!

'Why did I keep that necklace?' He wondered bitterly.

' _I want you to have this, Credence,"_ he remembered Grindlewald's words. _"I would trust very few with it. Very few."_

That was why he kept it, he realised. He liked being trusted.

Looking at Dumbledore and Jacob, remembering Newt, Tina and Queenie, he realised he had others trusting him now. _Truly_ trusting him. And they were still trying to protect him.

"Take it," Credence said, backing away from the necklace. He didn't want any more to do with it.

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked. "It is yours. And I can take the spells off, if you-"

"No!" Credence backed right up to the wall. "I don't want anything to do with him, I don't want it!"

"Hey, hey, it's alight, Credence, calm down," Jacob said soothingly as Credence slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "You're alright, pal."

"I'm so sorry, Credence," Albus apologised, his voice empathetic. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Wrapping the necklace up in a cloth, he placed it in his pocket.

"Hey, why don't you give that thing to Graves and Theseus?" Jacob asked Dumbledore. "They want Grindlewald so badly? That thing could bring him right to them."

"That's a possibility," Dumbledore granted.

Credence appeared to be calming himself down, breathing deeply with his eyes closed, trying to control his breathing and emotions like Professor Imamu had taught him. When he eventually opened them, Jacob passed Credence a spoon covered in the buttercream frosting they'd just made. The young man accepted it, giving it a lick.

"I wish I could see Dougal," he said quietly after a moment, shaking his free hand, feeling jittery.

"Sorry, pal, it's just me," Jacob apologised.

"This is nice," Credence held up the spoon.

"That's my magic power," Jacob grinned. "Frosting: it adds extra happiness to any baked treat."

"I completely agree, Mr Kowalski," Dumbledore grinned. "And I'm impressed at your level of control, Credence. You're getting better every day. Now, I should be off. I'll come pick you up for your class tonight, alright?"

Credence nodded and Dumbledore took his leave.

"You sure you're alright?" Jacob asked Credence in concern.

"Yes," Credence nodded, though he did still feel like he needed to get rid of some energy. "But," he added carefully, "Jacob, is it okay if I go for a walk?"

Jacob thought for a moment before nodding.

"Sure. The Ministry still don't know what you look like, and we've been in here all morning," he agreed. "A walk might clear your head. Maybe go find Willow," he added as Credence reached the door. "She hasn't seen you since your date the other night. She might think you've forgotten about her."

Credence turned back.

"Why would I forget her?" He asked.

Jacob smiled, gesturing for him to leave.

"Go on, out you go," he told him fondly. "Just be back before your class tonight, so Dumbledore can pick you up, alright?"

Nodding, Credence left.

Where should he go? He wondered as he breathed in the crisp air.

The park? He thought. He did like the local park, but he realised he had missed talking to Willow, now that Jacob mentioned her.

Maybe she'd like to join him for a walk to the park? He wondered.

It was a Wednesday, so Credence figured Willow would be working. However, when he visited the flower shop, Eliza told him that she was taking the day off, owing to holiday time she'd built up.

"She'll be at home, reading," Eliza told him with a smile. "Go ahead and pop by. She'll be glad to see you."

Credence thanked her and left, making his way towards her flat.

Eventually he made it to Willow's street and as he got closer to her flat, near the jewellery shop, he noticed there was a couple on the pavement, outside the store.

It was only as he got closer that he realised one of the figures was Willow. She was talking to a man, and not appearing very happy about doing so.

Credence hesitated. He didn't like being near conflict and was thinking of turning around. But the fact that it was Willow, made him want to watch, from afar, to at least make sure she was okay.

Making a dismissive gesture with her hand, Willow turned towards her flat, only to have the man grab her arm.

Wrenching her arm free, Willow surprised Credence by slapping the man full in the face, causing him to stagger.

Turning, Willow wrenched open the door to her flat and slammed it behind her. The man, his expression furious, pounded on the door, yelling something indistinctly, before he turned and walked away, looking back at the door darkly over his shoulder.

Credence hurried to reach Willow's flat. Hesitating, he raised his hand before cautiously knocking on the door.

"Go away!" Willow yelled angrily.

Credence flinched.

'She thinks you're that man who grabbed her,' he told himself.

"Willow?" Credence called, swallowing nervously. "Are you alright?"

He heard a pattering of feet and the door flew open.

"Oh, Credence, it's you," Willow sighed in relief, her anger quickly melting into a smile. "It's good to see you. And, I'm so sorry," she apologised, reaching out to place her hand gently on his shoulder in assurance. "I thought he'd come back…"

"Who was that man?" Credence asked.

"You saw?" Willow asked, shame faced as Credence nodded. "I'm so sorry you had to see that," she told him. "I don't like hurting people, but sometimes," she sighed in frustration, covering her face before clenching her hands into fists, "it seems to be the only way to get a message across clearly." She gestured to the man's retreating back. "He seems to think that 'no' means 'try harder'."

"Who was that?" Credence asked again, his concern growing.

Willow sighed, rubbing her eyes. "That was my former boyfriend, Patrick," she answered slowly. "I broke off my relationship with him about…four months ago."

"Why?" Credence asked curiously.

Willow sighed, raising her eyes to the sky.

"He didn't know how to treat a lady properly," she answered measuredly, still trying to calm down her anger. "He still doesn't, apparently." Absentmindedly, Willow's hand reached for the back of her neck, and she began to curl into herself slightly.

Credence recognised that posture all too well.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked, his voice stronger as he stepped closer, wanting to help her.

Willow lowered her eyes, it was answer enough for Credence.

"What did he do?"

"It was months ago-"

"But it still hurts," Credence spoke up. "The injuries heal, and the scars fade. And you can move on…But the memory still hurts."

Willow met his eyes and realised he was speaking of his own experiences. Credence had been hurt, too.

'No wonder he was so shy', she thought, biting her lip as she felt a flash of anger at whoever could have hurt someone like him.

'His mother, I bet,' she mused, remembering his stories of her telling him he'd go to Hell.

Willow clenched her jaw, wishing she had slapped the woman when she had seen her on her visit to New York. What kind of mother does that to her own children? She thought fiercely.

"Let me help you, Willow," Credence pleaded.

'And now here Credence is, trying to help _me_ ,' Willow marvelled, touched, as a smile broke through her anger.

'How can I expect him to let me help him, if I won't let him help me?' She wondered, taking a breath.

Slowly, Willow reached up and gathered her long hair in one hand, turning her back towards Credence.

And there, at the base of her neck, was a small, round, burn mark.

"He said he wanted to give me something that showed the world I was his," Willow explained flatly. "Usually, when a girl hears that, they're expecting a piece of jewellery, not a cigarette burn."

Credence felt his breathing quicken as he could feel the obscurus shift in his chest, wanting to punish...

"He burned you," Credence whispered, trying to control the obscurus within. 'Redirect,' he reminded himself, trying to recall his lessons with Professor Imamu. 'Focus on helping Willow, not hurting Patrick.'

"A brand," Willow nodded turning back to face him as her expression turned sour. "But I am not a thing," she stated and Credence saw a fire in her eyes he hadn't seen before. And while a part of him was afraid at seeing her this way, another part of him was, admittedly, impressed at her strength of spirit.

"No," Credence agreed. "You're not."

"No one treats me like that," Willow stated, her voice sounding strangled. And, realising she was getting worked up, she raised her hands as she took a deep breath to calm herself down.

As Willow breathed deeply, however, her eyes closed in concentration, Credence's eyes widened as he saw a spark of light, like a tiny bolt of lightning, pass from one finger on her right hand, into the same finger on her left.

"What was that?" Credence asked automatically, stepping closer.

"What was what?" Willow asked, opening her eyes.

"Your hands," Credence took up Willow's hands in his own in wonder. "I saw a light flit between them."

Willow stared at Credence, her eyes slowly widening, and Credence, realising, too late, how he had sounded, figured she'd ask if he was feeling well.

"You actually saw that?" Willow asked, her focus entirely on Credence.

Credence lifted his eyes to hers and was struck by the expression on her face.

"Yes," he stammered.

Willow let out a breath. "All this time I wondered if it was just my imagination," she whispered. "You really saw that spark of light?"

Credence nodded.

"How long have you been doing that for?" He asked,

"Since I was about," Willow raised her eyes as she cast her mind back, "thirteen? Fourteen?"

Credence smiled, as the Quill and Book that Dumbledore had shown him at Hogwarts filled his mind.

Credence had been right: There _were_ people who weren't wizards, but who still had magic …

Willow had a spark of magic in her blood!

"But it can never happen when I want it to," Willow continued. "So, every time it happens, I wonder if I really saw it, or if my eyes were just tired."

"And when does this happen?" Credence asked, but he felt he could guess.

"Usually, it happens when I'm angry," Willow answered slowly, confirming Credence's suspicions. "Not when I'm frustrated, or stressed, but when I'm actually _angry_. But then, only when I'm just starting to calm down," she qualified. "It's as if halving a calmer mind, but a body filled with... 'fire' makes the - energy…magic…whatever it is - flow easier." She sighed, sure her halting explanation simply made her sound insane.

"Magic?" Credence echoed in a whisper, hardly daring to believe it. "You… you believe in _magic_?"

Willow lowered her eyes.

"I realise, that with your upbringing, Credence, 'magic' may be a word you don't like to hear," Willow granted slowly. "However, ever since I was a child, I've always had the feeling that there was more to this world than just what we see. That's why I love Florence Scoval Shinn's book on the 'The New Thought Movement', so much."

Finally, Willow was brave enough to look up at Credence's face, and she paused at seeing the intensity of his eyes.

"What is it?" She asked warily. "You want to burn me at the stake?"

"No. Far from it. Come with me," Credence invited, taking up her hands again. "I want to show you something."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I had originally written Tina spying Leta walking through Paris, but realised it was taking up too much room, so just had her explaining it to Newt, who, as always, gives Leta the benefit of the doubt._

 _And Tina, being Tina, is trying to focus on her work rather than her feelings for Newt, which keep on popping up…_

 _And Newt is trying to convince himself that he only sees Tina as a friend as he doesn't trust himself to hurt him, and still feels connected to Leta, seeing only the good in her…_

 _But he still doesn't want to risk his relationship with Tina, so he apologises for his mistake in saying she's 'no one,' without fully explaining how he truly feels, as he is still struggling to comprehend it himself…_

 _This appears to be a rather emotionally confusing relationship. But, I take comfort in the fact that this shows that both want to be truly sure of their feelings, before attempting to take the relationship further, which, to me, will make the relationship more solid when it finally does happen, as both will be sure of how they feel for the other._

 _As for Tina's 'trace-light' spell, it is one that I made up. After learning that the Ministry keeps tabs on underage wizards, and how Dumbledore, Voldemort and GrindleGraves can all seem to have this ability to just 'find' people or 'sense' where magic has been performed. I'm sure there must be spells that exist in the wizarding world that can trace and/or track a person by following their 'footprint' the same way a tracker does. And once you have a trail, you can choose to follow it forwards, to find where they were going, or backwards, to discover where they've been._

 _So, I made up the 'tracer-light' spell, for those like Tina, who may need it for their work._

 _Now, I had wondered what had happened to the Deathly Hallows necklace 'GrindleGraves' had given Credence in the Fantastic Beasts movie, and thought it may make a comeback here. I can imagine Dumbledore wanting to keep the pendant for himself, if he ever needs to contact Grindlewald at some point. I see this as the most likely, as I doubt Dumbledore would do the sensible thing and give it to Theseus to help trap Grindlewald, as I think part of Dumbledore still feels there is good in Grindlewald, much like Newt still sees the good in Leta, and so Albus, if anything, would likely use the pendant to try and talk Grindlewald into turning himself in or giving up his cause…_

 _I've got an idea for that possible scenario, actually… No spoiler's here though- I'm still working on it._

 _Now, I've mentioned a few times how Credence was hoping to be able to get a job at Jacob and Queenie's bakery, so was glad to finally be able to write his baking lesson. Credence no longer has Dougal to act as his teddy bear, so I wanted Jacob to share what he used to bring happiness back, and that was baking._

 _It's good to have more than one way to release stress, don't you think?_

 _Now, this story line with Credence and Willow, I'd written ages ago, and you'll see it continuing over the next chapter._

 _If you recall, I wrote about the 'Book and Quill' in an earlier chapter, and when I first read about it on Pottermore, I remember thinking: what if the Quill detected someone with magic, but the book wouldn't accept the name? What kinds of people would they grow to be?_

 _So here, I have Willow, as being one of those people._

 _Magic in the wizarding world has shown it first reveals itself when the person is angry r scared. And with someone as compassionate as Willow, I'd imagine something that would make her angry would be a person acting cruelly._

 _Especially if it was someone she cared about._

 _So, I gave her the story line of leaving her former boyfriend when she discovered he was not the man she thought he was. Feeling that desire to defend herself, but still being hurt by the memory of someone she cared about being cruel to her. Something Credence can relate to all too well…_

 _I think that's enough for now._

 _Please review!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's note: Hi everyone! This is essentially, the second half of Chapter 15. And I've spent over two days straight, writing it all after weeks of writer's block. When the muse hits, it hits me hard…_

 _Enjoy!_

~..~..~..~..

Theseus and Graves arrived at the French Hospital with their respective teams, having arrived in Paris that morning on the earliest possible portkey.

It was clear the outside of it had initially been made to look like an old factory, but the obscurial's attack had even shattered the glamour spell that kept the muggles away.

"They've had to move the whole hospital to a new location," Theseus informed Graves. "And as soon as the investigation is completed here, this place will be completely demolished so muggles won't ever find it. Now that the security's been breached, they can't risk returning."

Theseus felt he should have stayed in London, what with the break in at Gringots, but he felt his attention was better suited to focus on Grindlewald and let the Magical Law Enforcement department handle the investigation. That team had jumped at the chance at working on something so important.

Showing their badges at the cordon, Theseus, Graves and their team were allowed in.

Graves' eyes scanned the area. It certainly looked like the photos that he'd seen of the obscurial's attacks in New York. The place was practically a ruin, only a few walls remained of the hospital ward, and he could see the now empty hospital rooms that had once housed patients.

He drew his wand.

"What are you doing?" Theseus asked as Graves began to pass it over the walls and ground.

"Trying to find something to track," Graves answered. "Problem is, there's so much magic in this area, it's difficult to find an individual thread to follow."

They heard a crack as someone apparated, and the pair turned to find Deputy Cousteau making his way towards them.

"I see you finally decided to come," he noted flatly before turning. "You will all follow me to the French Ministry, please."

Theseus caught the eye of the wizard who had let them through the cordon, and realised he must have passed the information on to Cousteau.

"After you, Deputy Cousteau," he invited.

~..~..~..~..

"Round here," Tina encouraged, still following her tracer spell.

Newt kept up with Tina easily. They hadn't found any locations of interest, though Tina told him to cast revelio spells every time they found an area where Leta had paused.

As they rounded a corner, however, the pair froze upon what they saw.

It was the wizarding hospital they'd heard about, with a whole section of it blasted away. The place was still crawling with aurors, who were patrolling the perimeter, or casting spells over the damaged items, trying to find evidence.

"A nine-year-old did that," Newt mused, before seeing something that made him usher Tina out of sight behind the building.

Graves and Theseus were there, along with the rest of their respective teams.

Newt and Tina watched carefully as the American and British aurors followed the French Deputy, Auror Cousteau out of the ruins of the hospital and down the street.

"We should follow Theseus," Newt prompted. "Tracking Leta's past isn't getting us anywhere, Tina."

"You follow your brother," Tina countered. "I'll keep tracing back along Leta's trail."

"Why?" Newt pressed.

Tina sighed.

"What is she doing in Paris?" Tina asked. "She hasn't been near Gringots bank here, which I know is on the Parisian magical street, located near the Seine. So, if she was here on business she would have gone there."

"She could have been here on a short holiday," Newt insisted.

"Only a few hours long?" Tina queried.

"Visiting someone," Newt suggested.

"Then why did she use a portkey, not floo powder?" Tina asked. "And she walked a _long_ way to use her portkey back to London," she added. "Why didn't she just use it from wherever she was?"

"Speaking of a portkey back to London," Newt gestured to his case. "Now we know Theseus and Graves are here…"

Tina nodded, and in a matter of minutes, Queenie was standing on the pavement.

"Really?" She asked the moment she climbed out of the case, having seen what they had, by looking into their heads.

"Does this mean it's safe for me to go home?"

Tina nodded, wrapping her sister in a hug as Newt picked up a bottle lying in the gutter.

"Portus," he muttered and the bottle glowed blue.

"You guys have a permit for that?" Queenie asked cheekily.

"Oh, shut up and say hi to your husband and Credence for me," Tina said, handing her the bottle.

"Take care of each other," Queenie told them.

Tina nodded, swallowing.

"Say hi from me, too," Newt asked.

"Sure, honey," Queenie smiled. "You take care of my sister now."

"Three," Tina counted, "two, one."

Queenie disappeared.

"You follow Theseus," Tina instructed, moving on to continue tracking Leta's magical footsteps to find out where she'd been.

Looking towards the hospital, Newt hurried in the direction he'd seen his brother and the other aurors moving in, but he soon realised they'd gone a fair distance in the time it took to send Queenie home.

Opening his case again, he brought out one of the kneazles.

"You're a better tracker than me," he said, and the clever, cat-like creature cocked its head slightly, waiting.

"I need you to help me follow a large group of wizards that went this way," Newt asked, pointing.

Shaking itself, the kneazle took off down the footpath, Newt close behind.

~..~..~..~..

Jacob slammed the bread dough onto the counter top, pushing the dough along the surface, stretching it out as he kneaded.

As soon as Credence had left, the bakery just seemed so empty and quiet. He needed to keep busy, so had immediately begun doing what he does best: making bread.

As gathered the dough and slammed it on the bench again, he barely had a chance to think how cathartic kneading bread dough was, before a thud sounded.

"Jacob?" a voice called and the baker paused, hardly daring to believe it, before rushing out of the bake house kitchen to the main shop, to find his wife standing there, like a dream.

"Oh, Honey," Queenie rushed to hug her husband delightedly before kissing him happily.

"You're back," Jacob had to say the words out loud. She was really here.

"Yeah," Queenie nodded. "Theseus and Graves are in Paris, so, it's safe for me to be here, now."

Jacob joyfully kissed his wife again.

His bakery didn't feel empty anymore.

~..~..~..~..

Credence led Willow to a secluded area of the local park.

"What are we doing?" She asked, curious, if a little wary.

"That energy you feel when you're angry," Credence began as they paused by an empty bench, "actually _is_ magic, Willow."

Willow gazed at Credence steadily.

"If you're just going to make fun of me…" she began.

"No," Credence was quick to assure her. "I mean it. Watch."

Thinking a demonstration might be easier, Credence gestured to a small group of early bulb flowers, beginning to grow, sheltered under a large oak. Taking a deep breath, he knelt down and passed his hand over the new stems. In moments, they all began to rapidly grow taller, unfurling their flowers as freesias, daffodils and snowdrops appeared, a small burst of colour against the white snow.

Standing up, Credence carefully brought his eyes to meet Willow's and saw her jaw had dropped open in wonder.

"You just made spring flowers grow in winter," she pointed numbly at the natural bouquet that had suddenly sprung up.

"Yes," Credence admitted, thankful his spell had worked. "Magic is real, Willow," he impressed upon her.

"Wow…Oh, this is…" her voice trailed off in wonder as she gestured to the flowers. "So," she began slowly, "how can you use magic like _this_?"

"Well," Credence began. "I am…a wizard," he explained hesitantly. He realised it was the first time he'd called himself a wizard out loud, and it did feel rather strange.

"Okay," Willow nodded, her eyes wide as she glanced down at the flowers he grew in less than ten seconds, before returning her gaze to him. "I can believe that."

"And I've been learning magic at a school for other wizards, like me," Credence finished, "so that I can control my power."

"There are more of you?" Willow asked eagerly, eyes wide.

"A whole community," Credence nodded. "All over the world. And," he continued, "most young wizards and witches discover their magic young, as it bursts out of them when they're angry or scared."

Bringing her hands slowly to her mouth in shock, Willow's eyes were wide as she fought to control the emotions whirling within her.

"I've felt different my entire life," Willow whispered. "That's why I love books so much. They brought ideas and worlds to me that seemed more real than this one. I tried telling Eliza about the time I saw the ghost of my grandmother, when I was a child, the day after she died," Willow told him earnestly. "Eliza just said I must have been dreaming, but I _know_ I was awake. I was ten."

"No, ghosts are real," Credence assured her. "I've seen them, too."

Willow placed a hand over her heart, letting out a little laugh. "And those little, strange things that I used to see or feel…" She sighed, looking at her hands. "The sparks of light when I get angry…"

"Those sparks of light, Willow, is that little bit of magic that's inside you. You're not a full witch," he granted, "so you never got your letter for school, but, you _do_ have a spark of magic in you. My professor told me," he continued, "that there are people who are born with magic, but they just don't have enough to learn wizardry. You were _right_ , Willow," he finished. "There _is_ more to this world than what you see."

Credence waited with baited breath. He realised he was supposed to keep magic a secret, but he _wanted_ Willow to know this about him. And realising that she had a spark of magic in her too, well, he reasoned, she's not all muggle, then, so where's the harm in telling her? Jacob got an exemption, he reminded himself. If needed, he'll make sure Willow got one too.

"All my life, I dreamed of magic," Willow whispered, her eyes moving back to the floral arrangement Credence had created.

"Yes," Credence nodded. "I know what that's like: To feel different, and not be able to find someone who understands _why_."

Slowly, Willow shifted her eyes to the young man…the young _wizard_ , before her.

"Magic is real," she stammered.

"Yes," Credence assured her.

"I'm not crazy," Willow breathed, closing her eyes in relief.

"Absolutely not," Credence was emphatic. "In fact," he continued, a theory developing in his mind, "maybe that's why you, and so many others are drawn to the 'New Thought Movement'. That's your way of reaching magic, even though you can't do wizardry."

Breathing quickly, Willow suddenly threw her arms around Credence in a hug that, while surprising, was quite welcome.

" _Thank you_ , Credence," she told him, emphatically, and he felt a smile appear on his face. "Thank you for trusting me."

"I do trust you, Willow," Credence told her. Newt and Tina were gone, for now, but he had Willow here, with him.

"I promise, I'll keep your secret," she assured him before stepping back excitedly.

"Could you teach me?" She asked eagerly.

"I don't think so," Credence admitted reluctantly. "I'm still learning myself. Have you ever been able to do anything like _this_ before?" He asked, gesturing to the flowers he'd grown.

"No," Willow admitted enviously, moving to examine the flowers more closely. "There have been times when my fingers felt so full of energy, I'd touch a flower, half expecting it to open. Or touch a candle wick, half expecting it to burst into flame," she shook her head, "but nothing ever happened. Although," she considered. "There was a time when we were in a drought, and I was willing it to rain, and three days later, it did."

"Really?" Credence asked with interest, coming to kneel beside her.

"Yes, in all the wrong places though," Willow continued with a smile. "So, some parts of the country were flooded, while other parts were still drought-ridden." She looked aside at Credence. "I don't think that counts, though?"

"No, I don't think so, sorry," Credence told her. "But," he added quickly as her expression became downcast, "the sparks of light you generate, and the fact you saw a ghost, show you have _something_ ," he assured her. "So, maybe you'll have a child, or a grandchild, one day, who can do magic like this."

Willow studied the flowers once more before raising her eyes to meet his.

"This gift you have, Credence," she marvelled, "it's _extraordinary_. Thank you for sharing it with me."

Swallowing, Credence carefully picked a bright red freesia and offered it to Willow.

"For you," he said quietly

Smiling, Willow accepted the flower gladly.

"Why thank you, kind Sir," she told him, curtsying before taking up his hand to help him to his feet.

~..~..~..~..~

Newt and his kneazle, which he'd decided to call 'Hoppy' followed the aurors back into the city.

Newt figured they'd probably be hiding the French ministry building inside one of the many prominent buildings in the city, and he passed the time wondering which one it could be.

The Eiffel Tower? He wondered. No, too obvious. Besides, he added, as the tower was simply that- a tower, it would be far more difficult to hide something like the Ministry inside it, even with magic.

What about the Louvre? It was a possibility, he considered. It was certainly large enough, although size wasn't really important when it came to hiding magical buildings, he knew. An extension charm would be more difficult to maintain though, he granted.

They were walking along the Seine River, now, in all appearances looking like a tourist group, which, in Newt's opinion, was pretty fitting.

After a time, the group of aurors approached the large, Gothic, Sainte-Chapelle and entered a side door, which Newt supposed, was where the French Ministry was hidden.

"A _chapel_ ," he mused with interest. "Now that's different."

"Nice work, Hoppy, thank you," Newt told his kneazle as he scratched it behind the ear. "I'm not much good at tracking humans."

Hoppy purred, enjoying the appreciation.

"Reckon you should probably get back in the case now," Newt put forward, setting his case on the ground.

Though Hoppy appeared to enjoy being in the outside world, and elected to ignore the case and make her way stealthily across the street towards the chapel.

"Typical," Newt sighed, quickly following.

Following Hoppy through the side door, Newt realised that, yes indeed, this was the location of the French Ministry.

The multi-story building was large and circular, each level being open so those on the ground floor had a clear view to the domed ceiling, which was patterned by what appeared to be zodiac signs and other astrological markings that moved across the glass

Impressed, Newt momentarily forgot why he was there, until he spotted the tail of Hoppy the kneazle, twitching irritably as she stared at him haughtily.

'Are you coming, or not?' She seemed to be saying.

"So sorry, Hoppy,' Newt apologised, "after you."

However, the pair had barely taken a dozen steps when Newt was forced to duck behind a column.

But it was too late.

Theseus excused himself from the group as Cousteau led them up a staircase and strode over. Graves stared after him, curiously.

"What are you doing here, Newt?" Theseus demanded.

"Followed my kneazle," Newt pointed to the cat-like creature at his feet.

Theseus rolled his eyes before frowning at it.

"You've used these creatures to identify criminals, haven't you?" He asked.

"Well, it's more generalised than that," Newt qualified. "They can identify whether someone is unscrupulous or not-"

"That'll do," Theseus grabbed his arm and dragged him over to join the group Hoppy the kneazle trotting curiously alongside.

"Is the obscurial with you?" Theseus whispered.

"His name is Credence," Newt reminded his brother, "and no, he isn't."

Newt tried to pull out of his brother's grip but Theseus held him fast.

"Why did you ask about the kneazles' ability to sense deceit?" Newt asked.

"It may come in handy," Theseus answered shortly.

Cousteau led the British and American teams, and Newt to a large office decorated elegantly in monochrome colours.

Head Auror Delacroix was studying some papers on her desk while talking in a low voice to a few aurors around her. One, Newt recognised as being Auror Bovary, who he'd met at his book promotion.

"Well, this is a surprise," Delacroix commented as she moved around her desk to greet the group.

" _Monsieur_ Graves, _Monsieur_ Scamander," her eyes travelled to Newt, "and _Monsieur_ Scamander. What brings you all here at this time?"

"I found them at the hospital crime scene, without authorisation," Cousteau spoke up.

Graves cleared his throat.

"We were wondering if you had found any new leads as a result of studying the events at the hospital that could lead us to Grindlewald's whereabouts or next move." He said, his voice measured.

"Oh, did the baker's wife not give you any useful information?" Delacroix asked mildly. Those on her team who spoke English well, struggled not to laugh, translating for their work mates in whispered French.

"No," Theseus answered simply.

Now, Newt had to press his lips together as he recalled how they snuck Queenie out before she even got interrogated. He didn't want to embarrass his brother, after all.

Besides, he could still get arrested himself, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Head Auror Delacroix turned to Newt.

"Have you brought the obsc-," Delacroix cleared her throat before trying again.

"Has Credence agreed to help us, Newt?" She asked him.

"No," Newt told her firmly. "I'm only here to make sure that no one else gets taken advantage of."

~..~..~..~..

Tina followed her 'trace-light' until she found herself facing some kind of tunnel that appeared to be leading underground.

A sign in French stood outside the tunnel, thankfully translated in English underneath

' _No entry without authorisation'_ it said.

But Tina's spell told her that Leta had been down this way. So whatever was down this tunnel… _This_ had to be the reason Leta came to Paris, she was sure of it.

Carefully, she made her way down, and as Tina examined the dark walls and the slope of the tunnel, she felt as if she was entering an old mine.

Further on along the corridor, she found something that told her exactly what this place was.

Using the 'trace-light' still emitting from the tip of her wand, Tina could take a closer look at the walls as they grew wider and taller.

They were not made of stone.

They were made of _skulls_.

Tina felt herself shiver as she saw row after row of skulls embedded in the walls.

'This place is like a giant mausoleum', she realised.

As she continued to move, her 'tracer-light' began to flicker, saying it was having trouble locking on to Leta's former movements.

Frowning, Tina flicked her wrist, and the light went out.

'Revelio,' she whispered.

What appeared to be a wall on her right shimmered, before returning to its stone and bone appearance.

Turning, Tina pointed her wand again.

" _Revelio_."

The wall shimmered once more to reveal a disguised corridor.

Casting a chameleon charm over herself, Tina cautiously made her way forward

~..~..~..~..

Credence didn't know how long he and Willow had been sitting on the park bench, talking, but he knew it must have been for some time.

Credence had told Willow everything about the _real_ reason he'd come to England. And she cried for him, holding him close as she learnt how he had suffered. And Credence was touched that she still continued to accept him, even after hearing his story.

They then moved on to lighter topics, and Credence told her he'd finished the book ' _The Game of Life and How to Play it_ ,' that she'd given him for Christmas. They were soon discussing 'The New Thought Movement,' with their ideas that you can bring in to your life that which you focus on in your mind and heart. Credence was glad to finally have someone to share his ideas on how this way of thinking was very similar to ' _Power of the Ancients,'_ the book Professor Imamu had given him regarding how magic was used in ancient times. Willow seemed highly fascinated by the comparison, and Credence offered to lend her the book.

It was wonderful to just be able to just _talk_ to someone, Credence realised, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. It was strange: he'd talked to Newt, Jacob and August… but there was something about Willow that seemed to make Credence feel…trusted? Credence wasn't sure if that was the right word, for he knew, Newt, Jacob and August trusted him

But Willow… he could trust _her_ , he knew that now, completely. She believed in magic. She wasn't part of the wizarding world, but didn't think him a Freak. He felt he could really be himself around her, now.

Which wasn't something he was used to, he admitted to himself, remembering his Ma and 'Graves'…

But then he glimpsed the burn mark on her neck again, and he realised they'd both been damaged by people they had trusted.

But, it appeared, they were both wanting to start again.

"Can I try something?" Credence asked her gently.

"What?" Willow asked.

"Your scar."

Slowly, Willow drew her hair away from her neck, turning, so her scar was in full view.

Taking a deep breath, Credence lifted a hand and gently brushed his fingers along the skin of her neck.

As he did so, he felt a small tingle in his fingertips as the magic left him, and he watched as the small round scar morphed, until it had disappeared completely, leaving her skin smooth and unblemished.

He felt his throat clench as he remembered 'Graves' doing this for him, healing his hands after they'd been cut by the belt from his mother's beatings…

Still, while 'Graves' had been using his healing ability to gain control of Credence, he felt assured that he was using the spell to genuinely help Willow.

' _Put those scars in the past where they belong_ ,' he remembered the man's words and clenched his jaw.

He wasn't like Grindlewald, Credence told himself. He wanted to be like Newt: trying to help, trying to heal…

"There," he whispered, before he suddenly became aware of how intimate this was, he could even smell the jasmine oil she wore, and he quickly moved back, swallowing.

"What?" Willow asked, raising her hand to the base of her neck. After a moment of searching, she froze, raising her eyes to Credence's in disbelief.

"It's gone?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"You're not branded anymore," Credence nodded.

Driven speechless, Willow wrapped her arms around him once more in gratitude, her eyes glistening.

"Thank you, Credence," she whispered as she held him close. "Thank you _so_ much. I no longer have that to remind me how he treated me," she sighed in relief. "I can really move on now."

"I'm glad I can help you," Credence told her, a feeling growing in his chest that he couldn't find the word for. He just knew that seeing Willow happy made him happy.

She had helped him by encouraging to burn his mother's pamphlet, he recalled. And now, here, he could help her by removing the brand that cruel man had given her.

And he liked her hugs, he realised. He felt safe in her hugs.

"I just wish I could help take your bad memories away," she whispered.

Credence pulled back in surprise.

"But you do," he told her, as if it were obvious. "I've been called everything from a freak to the devil's helper, my entire life. But when I'm with you, I feel… like I can be accepted. Not by magic or not, but by just being _me_. You knew _me_ first, before the magic, and you _still_ became my friend. And you're still my friend now," he added in relief. "Thank you for that."

Seeming overcome at the sincerity of his words, Willow leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

~..~..~..~..

Newt stood to the side of the large office doing his best to seem invisible as the three auror departments continued to argue amongst themselves about the best way to proceed with the investigation.

"Grindlewald has been discovered on French soil, and this is my Ministry," Delacroix was saying. "Therefore, I am taking charge of this investigation."

"But you have no right to give orders to our aurors," Graves insisted. "They are under our command, not yours."

Newt sighed, his eyes travelling to the door. What he really wanted to do was simply leave and go find Tina. He was worried, as it had been a long time since she had gone off, tracking Leta. Though, what good that would do, Newt didn't know.

A large piece of paper slid of the desk, and Newt moved to pick it up.

"No touch!" One of the French aurors scolded as they instead moved to pick the paper up, which Newt noticed to be a map, and put it back on the table.

"Je suis désolé," Newt replied, raising his hands placatingly as he backed away.

"I was just trying to help," Newt added as others had turned to look at the sound of the outburst.

"As you are not an auror, you are forbidden to see the information we've gathered," Delacroix explained. "At least, not without express permission."

"I can understand that," Newt answered, "but you have all spent this time arguing about past errors and jurisdiction." He sighed, gesturing to the people in the room. "Shouldn't you all be _working together_ to find and capture Grindlewald instead of arguing amongst yourselves over who's in charge of who? Newt let out a breath to try and calm down, avoiding eye contact as everyone stared at him.

"And you wonder why I don't 'join the crowd', Theseus," Newt muttered, gathering up his case and Kneazle, taking his leave. "Too much-"

He froze, hand on the door.

"Newt?" Theseus asked.

The magizoologist turned back to the room slowly, his mind racing.

"Join the crowd," he whispered.

"What is it, Mr Scamander?" Graves asked.

"Let me see that map," Newt hurried forward to pull the map towards him, but was told of by the French auror again. Only a sharp word from Delacroix caused him to step back.

"What have you thought of, _Monsieur_ Scamander?" Delacroix asked as she spread the map of Paris across her desk. This man had led them to the discovery of Grindlewald's fascination with obscurials, so, as much as many of the aurors didn't want to admit it, Newt did have a point: They had to focus on Grindlewald, not each other.

And Delacroix was willing to let him have a chance to speak.

"What does Grindlewald want?" Newt asked the room.

"The obscurial," Graves answered imediately. He didn't like that Newt was given reign to seemingly do as he wished. _Again_.

However, he recalled, it was originally due to Newt that they discovered Grindlewald was even in France in the first place.

And, as Theseus' brother, Newt was out of Graves' jurisdiction.

"Credence," Newt corrected automatically. "And not just him," Newt added. "What's his end goal?"

"War between the magical and non-magical worlds," Theseus answered, still not sure where his brother was going with this.

"And what do you need to do that?" Newt prompted. "Can Grindlewald take over using just himself and Credence?"

"He needs followers," Delacroix supplied.

"Yes," Newt nodded. "More than that, he needs an _army_. And you can't form an army by only talking to individuals, can you?"

"He needs a place we he can gather them all together." Now, Theseus could see where his brother was going.

"Delacroix," Graves began, "is there a place in France, hidden from view, where a large group of people could gather?"

"Many," Delacroix admitted, studying the map.

"Many?" Theseus echoed warily.

"There are catacombs all over Paris," the French Head Auror explained. "Mass graves containing the skeletal remains of millions of people."

"Where are they, exactly?" Theseus asked, joining them at the table.

Delacroix scanned the map.

"These are the biggest ones, though some are interconnected," she explained, waving her wand over the map, and blue lights appeared scattered across Paris.

"These ones are open to tourists throughout the year," she added, and a number of them changed from blue to green.

"These ones are only allowed access to with permission," she added, and some changed from blue to purple.

"And these ones have collapsed completely, and are not accessible," she concluded, and the few remaining lights changed from blue to red.

"We'll search them all, starting with the green," Graves nodded. "Though I can't imagine Grindlewald risking contact with muggles, if he can help it."

"Good way to disguise people coming and going from the site, though," Theseus admitted.

But Newt was staring at the map, frozen.

"Where's the hospital that was attacked?" He asked slowly.

Delacroix waved her wand and a blue light appeared.

Newt placed a finger on the street, where he'd last seen Tina.

"Newt?" Theseus asked, watching his brother's expression.

Newt followed the street until it hit a purple light, and his blood went cold.

"What is it, Mr Scamander?" Graves asked.

"Tina," he whispered. "She was following a trail… and that's the direction she was going."

Newt looked up and Theseus knew that expression all too well.

"Newt," he cautioned. "If that is where Grindlewald is gathering followers, we need to do this properly."

"You do it by the book, Theseus," told him, gathering up his case, Hoppy the kneazle following eagerly.

"I'm going after Tina," Newt rushed out of the office without another word.

Graves looked at Theseus.

"He's your brother," he told him.

Theseus sighed.

"I'll go with him," he announced, "before he gets himself killed," he muttered as he made to follow. "You need to set up a perimeter and send out any aurors that remain to search the other catacombs."

"Mr Graves, Sir," Bennet raised a hand, "permission to accompany Auror Scamander to assist."

"Granted, Bennet," Graves nodded, knowing Tina had been his partner.

Bennet felt Graves grip his arm as he made his way to the door. "Report to me immediately, if you find anything," he ordered. "Don't try to arrest anyone if your outnumbered, just get information and call for back up, understood?"

Bennet nodded.

"Yes Sir," he said, before making after Newt and Theseus.

Graves turned back to Delacroix.

"Now that we have a small number infiltrating," he began, "let's get to work on setting up a perimeter."

"Glad to know you can work as a team, Monsieur Graves," Delacroix told him.

~..~..~..~..

It was almost sunset as Credence walked Willow home. She had yet to let go of his hand, which was good, as he was discovering that he liked the feeling of holding Willow's hand.

"Thank you, for everything, Credence," Willow told him again as they reached her flat door. "Thank you for trusting me. There is so much more wonder in the world than I thought. It's extraordinary," she smiled. "I look forward to learning more."

"Thank you, Willow," Credence countered, causing a flash of confusion through her eyes.

"For what?" She asked.

"For not thinking I'm a 'freak', or 'unnatural.'" Credence answered simply. "Thank you for accepting me."

Willow's face melted into a smile.

"This is how you were _born_ , Credence," she told him sincerely, "how much more 'natural' can you be?"

Reaching up, Willow gently pulled Credence's head down towards her and, being too short to reach his cheek, instead planted a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.

If Credence just turned his head slightly… but Credence stayed still, not sure of what he should do.

Then Willow stepped back, smiling and bidding him goodbye before turning to enter her building, and Credence couldn't help but slowly raise a hand to his lips, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As he turned to make his way back down the street, he felt his smile grow wider.

He was discovering he liked Willow's kisses, too.

~..~..~..~..

Newt, Theseus and Auror Bennet apparated to the hospital to orientate before running in the direction Tina had travelled, towards one of the catacombs of Paris.

Naturally, Newt would have preferred to apparate directly to her, but when he tried, outside the Ministry, he found he couldn't.

"Anti-apparation spell," Theseus nodded, sending his patronus back inside the bulding to inform the others before going after his brother.

If there was a spell to prevent people apparating inside an area, that was a high indication that this was the place they were looking for.

"So, what kind of trail was Goldstein following?" Theseus asked his brother as they ran.

"Leta's," Newt answered reluctantly, almost causing his brother to stumble in shock.

"Leta's?" He echoed.

"Tina saw her in Paris this morning," Newt admitted, "and thought her behavior suspicious. So, when Leta made a portkey to return to London, Tina did a tracer spell to find out where she'd been. She was following it this way when we saw you, and split up."

They reached the entrance to the old mine shaft and stopped to catch their breath. Theseus then turned to Auror Bennet.

"Stand guard out here," he ordered. "We'll mark our progress as we move through, and send our patronus up if we find anything. Send back-up down after us when it arrives."

"I'd rather accompany you, Sir," Bennet said quickly. "Tina's on her own down there, and-"

"And how will back-up know how to find us if there's no one to report a status update when they arrive?" Theseus countered. "You may not be m, by auror, but I still outrank you, and you _will_ do as you're ordered, Auror Bennet."

Charles Bennet swallowed.

"Yes sir," he agreed reluctantly and Theseus and Newt made their way down into the catacomb, casting revealing spells as they went, trying to find any hidden entrance ways.

"Why am I not surprised to find Leta's a part of all this?" Theseus muttered as they walked, the passageway lit by the light of their wands.

Newt turned sharply towards his brother.

"You've never liked Leta, have you?" Newt demanded of Theseus. "Not you, not Father, not even mother. Even when we were at Hogwarts."

"No," Theseus admitted. "I never have. And you're right: Mother and Father never have either, though mum tried, because of you."

"Leta's had to deal with that all her life, you know," Newt defended. "All her life, people have been judging her based on who her family. But that's not who she is."

Theseus stared at his brother incredulously.

"Her family isn't the reason we never liked her, Newt," Theseus stated plainly. "We never liked her, because of how she'd just have to smile at you, and you'd do anything she told you to." He shook his head. "She wasn't good for you, Newt. Still isn't, by the look of things."

Newt sighed.

"Just once," he pleaded, "could you let go of your prejudices and try and see the good in people?"

Theseus raised his eyebrows.

"No, of course not," Newt answered his own question. "You wouldn't be the auror you are today, if you actually gave people the benefit of the doubt."

"I have a question for you, then Newt," Theseus put forward. "What was Leta doing here, if not doing something related to Grindlewald?"

"Her parents would likely join him," Newt granted. "Perhaps she was brought here to be threatened or tortured to join? We can't know for sure," he insisted.

Suddenly, as Newt cast a revelio spell, a wall on his right shimmered and turned into a passageway.

Newt marked the wall as Theseus sent his patronus back towards Bennet, telling him of their discovery, so back-up could find them.

'Please be okay, Tina,' Newt hoped.

Then together, he and Theseus entered the new passage.

~..~..~..~..~

Credence had been walking, lost in happy thoughts for a change, when a voice cut through the still night air.

"Hey, you!"

Credence looked up, to spy the man he'd seen Willow arguing with earlier, Patrick, heading his way.

Sensing it would not be a good idea to engage the man in conversation, Credence instead turned and walked as fast as he could in the other direction.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Patrick called, much closer now.

Credence tried to avoid the man by ducking up an alley way. Too late, he realised his mistake, as it was just a gap between two shop buildings, with a brick wall at the end, and completely devoid of people.

However, when Credence turned to head back to the street, he found Patrick walking towards him.

Credence tried to keep his breathing steady. This was dangerous, he knew that. The man's cold expression reminded him of his Ma.

The obscurus within him writhed, and Credence wondered if, this time, he'd be able to control it.

Although, this was the same man who had hurt Willow, he reminded himself. Would it be so bad if he couldn't?

The thought of Newt and Tina's disappointed expressions told him that, yes, it probably would.

"Who are you?" Patrick demanded, coming to stand before him.

"Nobody," Credence answered, keeping his head bowed as he tried to control his breathing. Maybe he'd just leave him alone?

"Really?" Patrick asked sceptically. "So why did you avoid me?"

"I don't know you," Credence answered carefully.

"Aww, did your Mama tell you not to talk to strangers?" The man mocked, stepping closer, causing Credence to stumble back.

"I saw you talking to Willow," Patrick continued. "Is she a stranger?"

Credence stayed silent.

'Go away,' he prayed, his muscles tense as the feeling of being trapped increased and he felt his mouth begin to dry as panic began to fill him.

'Just go away…'

"Just stay away from her, alright?" Patrick demanded. "Or you'll be sorry. She's _mine_."

'Think of good memories,' Credence screwed his eyes shut as he fought to keep his obscurus inside him.

The memory of Willow's lips on his cheek made Credence smile slightly.

"What are you smiling at?" Patrick asked, stepping closer.

"Willow's my friend," he told Patrick. His voice quiet, but sure.

Stars burst in front of Credence's eyes, and he stumbled, falling to the ground as he clutched his face, blood pouring between his fingers.

Credence curled in on himself, feeling the obscurus spring to life in his chest.

He remembered that burn mark on Willow's neck…

The obscurus wanted to lash out.

It wanted to attack.

And, not for the first time in his life, Credence wondered whether he wanted to control it…

"Alright, 'Nobody,'" Patrick jeered as he strode forward, unimpressed. "You are going to stay away from Willow, or I'm going to beat you to a pulp. She's mine."

Credence was breathing heavily, but even though blood was pouring from his nose, he still felt a rush of power as he raised his eyes to the bully, the abuser, the man who had hurt Willow...

"No," he gritted out. "She's not a thing you can own." He looked up at the man standing over him. "And you will _never_ hurt her, again."

"And what are you going to do about it, 'Nobody'?" Patrick demanded, delivering a kick to Credence's stomach.

Credence felt his mind go blank. He was used to pain, after all.

But he felt the obscurus becoming agitated, wanting to protect him and lash out as his assailant. Black vapour began to emanate from him, and Patrick stumbled back slightly in shock.

"What the-" The man mumbled, cursing under his breath.

"What is this?" he demanded, feeling his mouth go dry as he saw Credence's eyes had turned white.

"I'm 'doing something about it'," Credence answered, the obscurus filling him turning his voice into a growl.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what did you think?_

 _A lot happens in this chapter, so I hope it flowed well enough, and you didn't get confused._

 _After seeing the still from the CoG trailer of Grindlewald in that underground chamber, I began wondering where it could be. I googled 'underground areas in Paris' and discover that there were actually hundreds of catacombs- old mines- all under the 'left bank' that housed the skeletal remains of millions of people._

 _Could there be any place more perfect to have Grindlewald have his secret Paris hideout?_

 _And I remember seeing an image of what appeared to be the French Ministry in the trailer, a building with this beautiful glass domed ceiling. I did some more research again and felt that the chapel would be a great building to hide such a place._

 _I could imagine the aurors still arguing about jurisdiction and red tape, and figured Newt would be the one to remind them of what they should be focusing on._

 _I hadn't originally planned for Theseus and Newt to follow Tina into the catacomb. Heck, I hadn't figured on Newt following Theseus to the Ministry, but I figured, what would be the clear choice in that situation?_

 _Newt didn't believe Leta had anything to do with Grindlewald, so thought following his brother would give more information. And when he realised Tina was possibly straight into Grindlewald's hiding place, and rushed after her, why would Theseus ignore such a chance to be the one to finally find Grindlewald?_

 _But suspicion is not the same as knowing, so Graves and Delacroix finally began working together to close the net while Theseus and Bennet were officially chasing up the strongest lead yet._

 _Make sense? I thought it did… Now, how am I going to fit Theseus in to what I have planned next?_

 _Hmm… I'll work on it._

 _I also like the idea of Newt enlisting the help of a kneazle to track people. Kneazles are very intelligent, and we all remember how well Mrs Norris could find students at Hogwarts, and she was only half-kneazle!_

 _And according to "Fantastic Beasts' the text book, Newt has a pet Kneazle called 'Hoppy,' so, I thought this could be when Hoppy first appears._

 _I'm planning on Hoppy appearing later on as well- maybe have Hoppy hiss at Leta again… I think that would be what would convince Newt. After all, humans lie, creatures don't…_

 _Now, as I said previously, Credence's story line here was one I'd written ages ago- the story is finally catching up to my ideas!_

 _I wanted Credence to show how much he's learning and growing with the various experiences he's had so far, and show that, while he is still damaged, and he has panic attacks, he is now more capable of reaching out. Remember, even in the first movie, we see him still trying to reach out to people, to make connections, and I think, with Newt and Tina gone, he's aching for more contact, which leads him to open up more to Willow._

 _However, he is not fully healed and while he's had help to control his obscurial in the past, I can imagine that being assaulted by a dominating…um- bad guy- like Patrick would definitely take him over the edge._

 _I really hated doing that, but the obscurus really does only appear when Credence feels the need to defend himself, and I thought Credence would find himself sooner or later, in a situation when he couldn't control his obscurus anymore. It just didn't seem realistic to me that he would have complete control over it so soon, after a lifetime trying to manage it. With the help and training he's received, I know he'd be more capable, but to control it completely now, I thought wasn't realistic.  
_

 _Also, if you recall, Grindlewald put a bounty hunter onto him..._

 _So, yeah… everyone's going to be having a miserable time of it, for a while… Sorry!_

 _I'll do my best to make up for it by the end- I've written some of those scenes already too._

 _My hands are cramped up from writing now, so I'll leave it there._

 _Please review!_


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's note: Hello everyone! Thank you for the reads, reviews favourites and follows! I'm glad you're enjoying my story! Here's the next chapter. I needed to update this chapter, as I have been informed that my original French order that I had Delacroix give her aurors was incorrect._

 _Enjoy!_

~..~..~..~..

Tina had wondered along the creepy corridors for some time, passing stone statues and memorials to the long dead.

However, as she approached yet another doorway, Tina was finally given a clue that she was on the right track.

This doorway was guarded by two wizards.

Hoping her chameleon charm held up, Tina stayed close to the wall and did her best to stay silent as she moved carefully towards the pair, who seemed bored. However, she must have made some kind of sound, for one of the guards lifted his head with a jerk, staring intently along the seemingly empty corridor.

"Who's there?" he demanded, raising his wand.

"Stop jumping at shadows Rosier," his companion told him.

"I'd rather jump at shadows then let someone pass through," Rosier countered. " _Homunum Revelio_."

Tina mentally flinched as she felt her chameleon charm slip away.

The guards barely had time to register her presence before Tina knocked Rosier out with a well-placed stunning spell.

Rolling, to avoid the other guard's hex, Tina disarmed him before shooting off another spell, hitting the man squarely in the chest and he fell, flat on his face, onto the hard, stone floor.

Quickly, Tina placed an immobilisation spell on both guards, for when they woke up, adding a chameleon charm for good measure, to hide them, before continuing on her way.

She knew she had to be getting closer.

~..~..~..~..

Queenie looked out the kitchen window at the darkening sky in concern, her mind scanning the area just along their street, searching.

Credence hadn't come home yet… He promised he'd be home before his class and he'd always been home on time.

Queenie hurried downstairs to where Jacob was just finishing the preparation for the next morning's work.

"Dinner's ready, honey," she told him. "Any sign of Credence yet?"

"No," Jacob answered with a frown. "It's not like him. I'm getting worried."

"Me too," Queenie nodded.

"Should we go look for him?" Jacob wondered aloud just before a knock sounded on the bakery door

Queenie rushed to open it and found Dumbledore standing on the pavement.

"Credence isn't home yet," she informed him quickly. "We were just going to go look for him."

Dumbledore frowned. It wasn't like Credence to be late, for he loved his classes. He and Batini had wanted to try and see how he'd cope with a boggart for the first time, for his lesson tonight.

"You both stay here, in case he returns," Dumbledore told them. "I'll search the area for Credence."

"He was with Willow this afternoon," Jacob supplied. "Hopefully, he just lost track of time."

"Indeed," Albus agreed though, like Jacob, was sceptical.

Turning, the Hogwarts professor disapparated.

~..~..~..~..

Theseus and Newt had been running, following Newt's kneazle, Hoppy, as she followed Tina's path through the tunnels. Newt had once more engaged the use of the cat-like creature's ability once he and Theseus realised that this secret tunnel wasn't actually a tunnel, but a labyrinth.

Hoping Tina hadn't got herself lost, Newt followed Hoppy until she paused by a doorway, sniffing either side.

She meowed, pacing across the width of the corridor.

"What is it?" Newt asked her.

Theseus drew his wand.

" _Revelio_."

Two men were revealed, lying on either side of the doorway.

They were both out cold.

"Looks like Tina's already been this way," Newt observed and his worry grew.

Theseus wordlessly sent another update back up to the surface, and marked the door before placing the chameleon charm over the men once more.

"You said Tina had been following Leta's trail, yes?" He asked his brother.

"Not now, Theseus," Newt cut him off.

But as they continued to move forward, Newt couldn't help but wonder…

What had Leta been doing down here?

~..~..~..~..

' _Oh, what have I done?_ ' Credence took in ragged breaths as he huddled against the side of the building, Patrick's lifeless body lying prone in the middle of the alley.

' _Monster_ ,' he could hear Ma's voice in his mind. ' _Wicked_.'

' _No, he hurt Willow_ ,' Credence argued. ' _He was beating me up._ '

' _Exactly_ ,' a third voice argued. ' _If he hadn't started beating you, you wouldn't have had to protect yourself. It was self defence_.'

Credence swallowed as he slowed his breathing down, staring at his hands.

It had been strange, he realised. The attack on Patrick hadn't been like the attack on Ma or Senator Shaw.

When his obscurus had attacked Senator Shaw, it destroyed everything in its path on the way to kill the man who had called him a freak.

When his obscurus had attacked Ma, the entire house had been destroyed.

But here, the only thing his obscurus had touched was Patrick. Nothing else was damaged, not even a single brick in the walls on either side of the narrow alley way.

He was becoming more focused, Credence realised.

And so, it seemed, was his obscurus.

"It was down here," a voice called and Credence had just enough time to place a chameleon charm over himself, before a pair of men appeared at the mouth of the alley way, wands drawn.

' _Were they aurors?_ ' Credence wondered fearfully. He had to get out of there, but the two men were blocking the only exit.

"Lumos," one of the wizards said, and a light burst from the tip of the man's wand to illuminate the dark alley way, and reveal Patrick's dead body.

"Told you," the second wizard said eagerly, stepping forward to examine the corpse. "Obscurus," he said happily. "Unmistakable."

"Great work, Grimson," the first wizard held his wand light higher. "But we have to give Grindlewald the boy for our pay day, not his kills. So, where'd the boy go?"

Credence swallowed.

' _Not aurors,_ ' he concluded. Now there was only the one wizard at the entrance to the alley way, Credence felt he may be able to slip by without touching him.

But his chameleon charm was for camouflage, not invisibility, and so Credence hoped the flickering light emanating from the wizard's wand would make his outline more difficult to spot.

Slowly, carefully, Credence edged along the wall to the mouth of the alley.

"He can't be far, Skender, this is a fresh kill," Grimson looked up from studying the dead body, wand raised.

Credence was almost at the mouth of the alley way. If he could just get to the edge of the wall, he could make a break for it.

" _Homunum Revelio_ ," Grimson said, and Credence felt his chameleon charm slip away and found himself staring into the cold eyes of Skender.

"Not far at all," Skender commented in surprise before smiling nastily. "You must be Credence."

Shooting out a hand in panic, Credence magically sent Skender flying backwards across the street.

Unfortunately, this gave Grimson the time he needed to sneak up behind him and place a cloth over his mouth.

"Go to sleep, boy," he heard the man whisper in his ear and his obscurus, while being able to defend against magical or physical attack, couldn't do much against the sleeping potion-soaked rag.

Credence barely had time to struggle before everything went black.

~..~..~..~..

Dumbledore raced to the alley way the moment he sensed the surge of magic in that area, however, by the time he reached the location, the only thing that remained was a man's lifeless body, covered in the tell-tale marks left by an obscurus.

Taking a deep breath, Dumbledore bowed his head.

Credence's obscurus had killed once again, he thought mournfully. He'd been doing so well. Dumbledore figured that he must have been severely provoked in order for his obscurus to burst forth to protect him.

And so, Dumbledore felt he had to do what he could to protect Credence.

Taking in the scene, the Professor quickly cast a spell over the entrance to the alley, ensuring no one would see or enter the area until he was gone.

Dumbledore then knelt down beside the corpse and removed the man's tie, waving his hand over the tie, he transfigured it into an exact replica of his lifeless body, only devoid of the obscurus marks.

Waving a hand over the real corpse, Dumbledore transfigured the man's body into the tie, and placed the item around the decoy's neck.

Considering, Dumbledore held out a hand, and a knife magically appeared, and he swiftly stabbed the decoy in the chest for effect.

"There," Dumbledore straightened up, vanishing the knife with a flick of his wrist. "It's now a muggle robbery gone wrong."

Waving a hand over the area, Dumbledore could detect a portkey had been used. Frowning, he did a tracer spell and felt his chest tighten as his fears were confirmed.

Credence had been taken to Paris.

The muggle authorities would soon find the decoy body. His skill at transfiguration was excellent, he knew, so he had no fear of the man's death being discovered by the Ministry of Magic.

But that assurance did nothing to calm his true anxiety.

Credence had been taken to Paris.

Striding out of the alley, Dumbledore disapparated.

~..~..~..~..~

Tina rounded a corner and froze before ducking behind a pillar, not wanting to walk into what she had just seen.

Cautiously, she peeked out from behind the stone work.

She was at the back of what appeared to be a large amphitheatre. The rows of seating were filled with witches and wizards, talking in hushed tones, casting frequent glances at the empty stage down in the centre of the room.

Tina had a feeling she didn't want to know who they were waiting for, but wanted to find out more.

Noticing a side door, down by the stage, Tina cast another chameleon charm before cautiously making her way down the steps.

Slowly, she opened the door until it was wide enough to slip through and immediately, the sound of the crowd was muffled as the door shut behind her.

The off-stage area went even further underground, and as Tina approached a T section, she had to pin herself against the wall to avoid walking into anyone as several wizards swept passed excitedly.

"Is he in the cell?" One of them asked in an urgent whisper.

"And still sleeping," someone answered.

"So, when are we going to get our gold?" One of them demanded. "I hope you lot aren't going to claim credit for what we did when you report to him."

"You'll get it presently," the first wizard told the complainant irritably. "As soon as we have Grindlewald's verification that you got the one he wants."

"Excuse me," another wizard spoke up indignantly. "But how many obscurials do you think there are in London? He shot me right across the street, he did."

Tina found herself struggling to breathe as the wizards moved away along the corridor.

Credence was here? And out cold, by the sound of it.

She hurried to catch up with them, doing her best to stay quiet.

The group filed into a room and began to haggle over payment. Listening at the door, Tina realised she wouldn't get any more about Credence's whereabouts from this lot.

She had to find him and get him out of here.

Moving off down the corridor, Tina's mind was racing.

Where would cells be in a place like this? She wondered.

Spotting a staircase, Tina moved toward it and headed further down.

~..~..~..~..~..

Credence woke up on a hard, stone floor and as the effects of the sleeping potion wore off, it took him a moment to remember what had happened in the alley.

Someone had placed a potion-soaked cloth over his mouth.

He felt his obscurus writhe in his chest. It hadn't liked being subdued.

Credence admitted he hadn't liked it either, and as he looked around to find himself in a small stone room with a wrought iron door, he realised he liked it even less.

Credence walked over to the door and drew his wand, surprised his attackers hadn't taken it from him.

"Alohamora," he said, pointing at the lock.

Nothing happened.

Credence pushed at the door, but it stayed shut.

Which answered the question as to why he'd been allowed to keep his wand.

Credence clenched the bars so tightly his knuckles turned white, trying to breathe as emotion filled him.

But it wasn't fear this time.

It was _anger_.

 _Why does this keep happening to me?_ He yelled in his head. _Can't I just have my own life?_

Everyone he had known had tried to control him, or abuse him, or lie to him…

'Not Newt and Tina,' a voice reminded him, but that thought brought him only momentary relief.

 _And where are they now?_ He yelled in his mind, hitting the iron door with a fist, barely registering the pain in his hand.

He was used to it, after all.

 _Ma…_

He remembered her. The lash of the belt on his hands…

' _Wicked,'_ he heard her voice as clear as day. _'Unnatural.'_

' _Cruel!'_ He shouted back in his head _. 'How could you do that to me? You made me like this!'_

' _But she's not here anymore,_ ' he reminded himself and Credence felt himself practically choke on the memory.

' _Murderer…'_

' _Your mother is dead. That's your reward,_ ' Credence remembered 'Graves' words and felt another wave of anger.

He'd thought Graves was his friend…

' _Liar!'_ he shouted in his mind, feeling his teeth grind.

The man pretending to be Graves had only wanted the obscurus…

And this time, he'd captured him forcibly so he could try again…

Credence hit the cell door again. It was cathartic, really, being able to release his anger like this. This wasn't hurting anyone…

He really was tired of being afraid.

He'd felt like he'd lived in a cage his whole life. A cage made of fear and self-loathing. Then, when he was finally free, he now found himself in yet another cage.

Credence considered…

Freedom.

He was now free of his Ma. So, he supposed 'Graves' words had been true, to a point. He no longer had to fear getting a lash of the belt again.

And he was free from 'Graves' influence. Now that Credence understood who he really was and what he was really after, he knew he'd never make the mistake to trust him again.

And he had been free. He had friends who actually cared about him, tried to keep him safe.

He'd been learning magic. Learning to become a part of the wizarding community, like he should have been…

Credence hit the cell door again in frustration.

But what was the point of it all, if he couldn't even get through this _damn_ door?

Suddenly, as Credence felt his anger rise to boiling point, he felt his obscurus rise to the surface and barely had time to register the black, smoke-like substance that was his obscurus, before he suddenly found himself standing in the corridor outside the cell door.

Credence looked at his hands and watched as the black vapour was reabsorbed into his body, his earlier anger being replaced by surprise.

Slowly, Credence turned to look at the cell he'd been in.

It was still there, still locked, and the door still perfectly intact.

Credence had shifted into his obscurus form to slip through the bars of the cell, he realised.

He hadn't even thought about it. He had just _done_ it.

' _Magic is rooted in emotion,'_ he recalled Professor Imamu's words.

" _Your emotions activate your magic," he heard his professor saying, as she placed a hand on her heart. "Your mind focuses your intent," she touched her forehead. "Your body directs it," she made a shield motion with her hands._

' _I wanted to get out of the cell,_ ' Credence began to smile. _'And my obscurus helped me do it.'_

He took a deep breath. This was the first time his obscurus had done something genuinely _usefu_ l, as opposed to simply lashing out.

His smile grew wider.

Maybe this meant he really could control it, he considered. Maybe this meant it wouldn't kill him, in the end…

The sound of hurrying footsteps brought Credence back to the present. His frustrated banging on the cell door must have alerted someone.

Turning, Credence was just raising his hands defensively when Tina rounded the corner, wand in hand.

"Credence!" Tina exclaimed in relief and Credence had never been so happy to see her, gladly accepting a hug from the woman.

Tina, he could trust, he reminded himself.

"Your nose," Tina commented in concern, and Credence raised a hand to his blood-covered face.

Tina pointed her wand at Credence.

" _Episky_ ," she said sharply and Credence flinched as he felt his broken nose shift back into place.

"What happened?" Tina asked, cleaning the blood off his face and clothes quickly before frowning at his presence in the corridor. "I overheard them say you were in a cell?"

"I got out," he answered simply, figuring now was not the time for explanations.

Tina seemed to agree.

"Come on," she invited, taking up his hand. "Time to get you out of here."

~..~..~..~..

Newt and Theseus hid quickly behind the nearest pillars as they found themselves inside what appeared to be a large amphitheatre.

Fortunately, the eyes of every witch and wizard in the audience appeared to be focused towards the front.

And in a moment, Newt understood why.

"Friends: you came to me because you crave something new," a smooth voice was saying, and Newt met Theseus' gaze before craning around the pillar.

And, as if he needed confirmation, there stood Grindlewald, addressing his audience.

"I say that muggles are not the _lesser_ , but they're not of value. Magic blooms only in rare souls. It is granted to those who live for higher things, if only the world will let them." Grindlewald continued, as his audience hung on his every word. "Still, we must skulk in shadows. But the old ways serve us no longer."

Applause began to ring out in the gathering.

"Back up should be here soon," Theseus said quietly to Newt.

Hoppy was shrinking, huddled against Newt's leg fearfully, her eyes large. Newt could understand. There must be a lot of deceit amongst the people in the room, so he quietly opened his case to let her back inside.

But still, even Newt was getting a bad feeling, and it was only as he was scanning the crowd that he realised what it was.

They had tracked Tina to this room…

So, where was she?

~..~..~..~..

Graves, Delacroix and the rest of the aurors made their way around the perimeter of the ossuary, placing barrier spells all around the area.

Graves approached Bennet.

"What's the status, Auror Bennet?" He asked.

"According to Auror Scamander's reports, Grindlewald is speaking to his followers, Sir," Bennet reported. "There's a whole hall full of hundreds of people."

"Hundreds?" Graves echoed. Even with their numbers and a perimeter to close the net, it would still take a miracle to capture all of them.

"Grindlewald is the focus," Delecriox reminded him. "He must be the primary target."

"Very good point, Auror Delacroix," Graves nodded, signalling his aurors.

"The aurors keeping the barrier spells up, you all stay," he ordered. "Even if some people break through, don't go running after them. Grindlewald is the main target. No one attacks without my permission- or Auror Delacroix's." He added quickly, glancing at the woman. "We must contain and subdue only. Is that clear?"

Wands at the ready, the aurors filed down into the tunnels under the city.

~..~..~..~..

On the stage, Grindlewald smiled.

"Now, ladies and Gentlemen, I feel the time has come for us to part ways." he concluded his speech. "For as I speak, there are currently a group of aurors on their way here, on a mission to trap me." He grinned as a ripple of shock passed through the theatre.

"Thank you for coming, Mr Scamander," Grindlewald grinned.

Theseus and Newt met each other's eyes in surprise. Members of the audience began disapparating as Grindlewald began laughing.

"Come on out," he invited as the last audience member disappeared. "Did you really think I hadn't noticed you? I could tell the moment you entered the first passageway."

Theseus and Newt stayed where they were.

"You didn't hear anything I didn't want you to," Grindlewald continued. "In fact, you got to see just how many people believe in what I'm saying: that we should rise above the shadows to walk in the light. Masters of this world, as we should be."

Theseus knew back up was on the way, so the best thing he could do was to try and stall for time until they arrived.

Carefully, Theseus drew his wand and stepped out into view.

"Mr Grindlewald," he began. "By order of the Ministry for Magic, I am placing you under arrest."

Grindlewald laughed.

"You're out of your jurisdiction, I believe, Auror Scamander," he mocked. "But you're not the one I wanted to talk to."

Newt took a breath and, drawing his own wand, he stepped up beside his brother.

"There you are," Grindlewald greeted. "Welcome, Mr Scamander. How is my friend Albus?" He asked. "I've heard he has a promising new student."

Grindlewald's smile grew wider at the surprise on Newt's face.

"You think I didn't know?" Grindlewald asked. "My followers are very good at giving me the help and information I need."

Grindlewald clicked his fingers and blue flames burst to life around the perimeter of the room, trapping them inside.

"Back up won't help you, Auror Scamander," Grindlewald's voice was patronising as he looked up at Theseus.

~..~..~..~..

Tina and Credence made their way back along the corridors, towards the amphitheatre, and their way out. More than once Tina had to stun someone who had spotted them, and, more than once, Credence had pulled her out of sight before they were spotted.

Eventually, they reached the door leading back into the amphitheatre, and Tina could hear the voice of Grindlewald, though his words were indistinguishable.

Credence could hear the voice, too.

"Is that…him?" He asked in a whisper. "Grindlewald?" This was the first time he was hearing Grindlewald himself speaking.

"Yes," Tina whispered back, bringing a finger to her lips as she cast a chameleon charm over the both of them and took up Credence's hand so as to ensure he stayed close.

"Shhh," she cautioned before slowly inching the door open.

Tina gasped, pushing Credence behind her they carefully entered the amphitheatre.

The seats in the audience, as well as the stage, were surrounded by strange, bright blue fire, though no heat emanated from the flames.

The stairs, however, were still clear, all the way up to the exit door, and Tina urged Credence towards it.

"Get out, quick," she hissed. "Stay safe. I have to help Newt and Theseus."

It was only then that Credence could see Newt and a dark-haired man whom Credence assumed to be Theseus, standing within the circle of flames, facing Grindlewald.

"Newt," he whispered, fear for his friends leaping into his chest.

"Run, Credence," Tina urged him, pushing him once again towards the door. "There'll be more aurors coming, you need to hide."

"Oh, no one can hide from me, Tina," Grindlewald spoke up and Tina froze as her eyes landed on Grindlewald.

Despite her chameleon charm, and the dull roar of the flames, Grindlewald was staring straight at her.

With a wave of his hand, Gellert removed the charm and Newt was both relieved and terrified when Tina and Credence suddenly became visible on the stairs.

"Credence," Grindlewald smiled fondly. "I'm so pleased to see you again. And I beg your forgiveness for how you were treated," he added quickly. "Those 'circus folk' clearly have no appreciation for a man of your talent."

"Credence?" Theseus echoed, turning his eyes on the young man standing beside Tina Goldstein.

"This is Credence Barebone?"

Tina quickly moved to stand in front of Credence defensively.

"Now, who are you protecting Credence from, Tina?" Grindlewald asked with interest. "Theseus or me?"

"You're not having him," Tina announced fiercely. "He's been through enough."

"I admire your desire to protect a miracle such as our Credence, Tina," Grindlewald said fondly. "But tell me: is he worth more to you than Newt?"

He pointed his wand at the magizoologist.

"You lower your wand, Theseus, and give Credence to me, Tina," Grindlewald ordered them both, "or I will kill him."

He then shifted his gaze to Newt coldly.

"When you die, Mr Scamander," he put forward, "do you think Albus Dumbledore will mourn for you?"

Newt raised both of his hands, trying to distract Grindlewald.

"You keep thinking that Credence is something you can own," he told the wizard. "But if you truly believed he was a miracle… If you really understood what he has been through, you would never want to use him as a weapon."

"I don't want him as a weapon," Grindlewald corrected. "I want him as a lightning rod."

Taking advantage of Newt's distraction tactic, Tina urged Credence to keep moving towards the door, but Credence couldn't take his eyes of the man standing below them on the stage.

This was the man who had wanted to use him to hurt people… To create fear.

And now he was pointing his wand at Newt…

Newt, who had helped him so much…

Theseus looked over at the young man by Tina and gaped as his whole body began to emit some kind of strange, black cloud.

"Credence, please be careful," Newt cautioned him. "I know you're scared, but the last thing we want is a collapse."

But as much as Credence was afraid, being able to finally see the true face of the man who had betrayed him back in New York filled him with a different emotion entirely.

Tina watched as Credence's eyes began to turn white.

"It'll be okay, Credence," she told him consolingly.

"What's happening?" Theseus asked warily.

Grindlewald's eyes moved away from Newt to land on the young man in question "Oh, Credence," he marvelled. "You have been learning, haven't you?"

Theseus barely had time to wonder at the man's statement before all hell broke loose.

Credence exploded furiously, that strange, black substance filling the room like a sandstorm. Cracks appeared in the ceiling and dirt, bone and rock began to fall on their heads before the entire thing began to collapse.

"Time to go," Newt announced quickly.

"How?" Theseus shouted as he dodged rubble, using his wand to deflect larger pieces away from him. "The fire-" he knew they were no ordinary flames. They couldn't take the door.

Tina looked up as more of the ceiling collapsed due to the obscurus ripping its way through the masonry and rock, and caught a glimpse of the night sky.

Grindlewald was right, she realised. Credence hadn't lost control, he was making them a way to escape, breaking the barrier spell.

"Up!" She yelled, before disapparating, Theseus and Newt close behind her.

~..~..~..~..

Graves and Delacroix had only just got their team safely out of the tunnels when the entire structure collapsed under their feet.

"Get back!" He yelled as the ground fell away.

From the depths, an unearthly, black entity shot upward through the rubble at their feet hitting the barrier spell they'd put up with such force, it caused cracks to criss-cross along the surface and Graves feared it may break.

"What is that?" Graves gaped as all the surrounding aurors drew their wands.

"Graves!" Theseus called as he apparated nearby, Newt and Tina following quickly behind.

"Aurors take aim!" Graves called, pointing upward.

"No!" Newt countered, as he and Tina raced to stand in front of Graves and Delacroix.

"Stop, please!" Tina pleaded before turning to look up at the black mass.

Newt turned to Theseus.

"Tell all the aurors to put away their wands," he told his brother.

"You are joking?" Theseus demanded.

"Credence just saved my life!" Newt reminded his brother. "He saved all of us." He turned to Graves desperately.

"Grindlewald knew we were there," he explained in a rush. "You wouldn't have been able to get through. He trapped us inside. Credence broke us out."

"Credence?" Graves repeated turning his eyes slowly back up to where the black mass of smoke and vapour churned languidly above their heads.

"That's the obscurial?"

"He's scared," Newt said, keeping his hands up, placatingly. "Lower your wands. Show you're not a threat, and he'll calm down."

Theseus eyed his brother sceptically.

Delacroix kept her eyes on the swirling obscurial above them as she slowly lowered her wand.

"Baissez vos armes!"She called out

Confused and scared, the French aurors nevertheless followed the order, lowing their wands and stepping back.

Theseus kept his eyes on Newt.

"Trust me, Theseus," Newt told him.

Swallowing, and giving his little brother a look saying this was against his better judgement, the British Head Auror lowered his wand.

"Hold your fire!" He called. "Lower your wands!"

Newt smiled in relief as the British team followed suit.

Graves eyed Newt and Tina sceptically.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Mr Scamander," he warned.

"I do," Newt answered. "He's not dangerous."

Graves took a slow breath before lowering his wand.

"Stand down." He ordered and hesitantly, almost reluctantly, the last of the aurors complied.

Tina smiled in relief, turning to look up at the swirling obscurus.

"Credence?" She called. "You can come down now. It's safe."

"No one's going to hurt you, Credence," Newt assured him, serving his brother a look.

The aurors jumped back in surprise as the mass of black smoke and vapor seemed to dive towards them. Theseus, Graves and Delacroix had to repeat their orders for wands to be kept lowered as some began to raise them again in panic.

The mass of black swirled and condensed at the edge of the crater that had once been the ossuary under Paris, solidifying and shrinking, until Credence Barebone was standing before them, guardedly.

"Hello," he greeted cautiously.

"Well done, Credence," Tina congratulated him, stepping forward to give the man a hug. "You saved us, thank you."

"Grindlewald would have killed me," Newt placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We never would have given you up. You saved my life, Credence, thank you."

"You're welcome," Credence answered, his eyes still warily on the aurors before him.

"Grindlewald's escaped?" Graves strode forward and Credence flinched reflexively.

"Yes," he stammered.

' _This is the real Mr Graves,_ ' he reminded himself.

Graves made a frustrated motion with his hands, causing Credence to start, and Tina had to take his arm to calm him down.

"He's not mad at you," she whispered.

"Actually, Goldstein, I am," Graves countered, moving forward. "You," he stated, pointing at Credence, "have just lost us the biggest lead we had on Grindlewald for weeks."

"Not to mention the damage to the Ossuary," Delacroix added. "We'll need to get a repair team in before-"

She stopped speaking as everyone was drawn to the entire structure of the crater as it began rebuilding itself and, in less than a minute, the site looked as if it had never been touched.

Credence lowered his hand, turning back to the aurors.

"Better?" He asked, hopefully.

"It would have taken over a dozen aurors to fix that amount of damage that quickly," Theseus mused staring measuredly at Credence.

Credence's expression was unreadable as he regarded Newt's brother.

"I guess that means I'm stronger than over a dozen aurors, then," he stated.

Regarding Credence warily, Theseus turned to Graves and Delacroix.

"We need trackers combing this place to find where Grindlewald went," he said. "See if anyone is still in those tunnels," he added.

Delacroix began ordering her aurors as Graves turned to Theseus.

"What happened down there?" He demanded.

Ignoring the man, Theseus turned back to Delacroix, getting an idea.

"Do you have access to a pensieve at your ministry?" He asked her urgently.

Delacroix nodded.

"I'll get it brought to my office once we return," she told him.

Theseus nodded before turning back to his brother, Tina and Credence.

"As for you three…" He began.

"We'll get out of your way, Theseus," Newt said quickly, taking hold of Credence's arm.

"I don't think so," Graves told him. "You all need to be debriefed, so we know what happened down there."

"I thought that was what Theseus was going to use the pensieve for?" Newt countered simply. "What's the point of us being there, if you're going to see everything he saw anyway?"

"We had Grindlewald cornered," Theseus said in exasperation, "and you all-"

"Oh, come on," Newt scoffed. " _He knew we were there_. We were the ones cornered, Theseus. If it weren't for Credence making an escape route for us, he'd have killed us."

"With respect, Auror Scamander," Tina spoke up, as the other aurors began to disperse down the tunnels or across the surface, trying to find some magical signature to track, "are you going to stand arguing with us, or are you going to try and find where Grindlewald and his followers have gone?"

"We need to know what happened, Tina," Graves repeated.

"Fine," Tina placed a hand on her hip.

"I followed a trail into the tunnels, Auror Scamader and Newt followed me. Credence was abducted from London and taken into the catacombs, where I found him. When Auror Scamander and Newt confronted Grindlewald, he threatened Newt's life in exchange for Credence, putting up a barrier to prevent our escape. Credence then broke through the ceiling to make us an escape route. Now, it is a shame that Grindlewald escaped, but back up could not have reached us in time before Grindlewald had killed at least one of us. So," Tina's eyes were firm as she gazed steadily at the men before her, "be grateful that we are all still alive to investigate this, and focus on tracking Grindlewald and using that pensieve to identify the people he was speaking to."

Grabbing Newt and Credence, Tina disapparated.

Delacroix smiled as she studied the stunned faces of both Graves and Theseus.

"You were correct, _Monsieur_ Graves," she told him. "Tina Goldstein is a good auror. Tell me again: why did you fire her?"

~..~..~..~..

Tina, Newt and Credence landed just outside the French hospital. It was the first thing that had popped into Tina's head, and international apparation was very difficult to do.

Tina turned to Credence in concern.

"Are you alright, Credence?" She asked him. The young man had just met the person who had betrayed him in New York before revealing himself to three different Head Aurors.

Credence didn't know what he was feeling, but nodded after a moment, nonetheless.

"Does this mean I don't have to hide now?" He asked hopefully.

"Not much point anymore," Newt granted before turning to Tina.

"You talked back to Graves and Theseus," he commented, halfway between shocked and impressed. "I didn't think you would do that."

Tina lowered her eyes.

"What's Graves going to do: fire me?" She said, a note of bitterness in her voice. "He's already done that." She sighed.

"What's a pensieve?" Credence asked, recalling the item Theseus had asked for.

"It's a magical object that looks like a stone basin," Tina explained. "You can extract your memories from your mind, placing them in the basin, to allow yourself and others to view the memory in more detail."

"If Theseus can access his memory of that amphitheatre in the catacombs," Newt considered, "he may be able to get a better idea as to who attended Grindlewald's address."

"Exactly," Tina said before turning to Credence.

"Now, aren't you late for class, young man?" She told him, hands on hips with a smile playing around her mouth.

"Dumbledore will have been wondering where you are," Newt realised. "Queenie and Jacob too."

Credence nodded, eager to go back.

"Are you sure we're not in trouble with Mr Graves?" He asked apprehensively.

"We'll handle Graves," Tina assured him quickly. "You go to Dumbledore."

"I'll take you," Newt offered quickly. "Then I'll meet you at the French Ministry, Tina. We do need to help find Grindlewald," he reminded her. "And perhaps, if my brother doesn't arrest us, we can actually work together on this."

"Where's the French Ministry?" She asked.

"The Sainte-Chapel," Newt answered, casting his eyes around them. Unable to spy anything he could turn into a portkey, Newt instead extracted an old inkpot from his case.

Tina cast the spell, and in moments, Newt and Credence were gone.

Tina let out a sigh of relief.

At least now, Credence wasn't about to be taken in by the Ministry.

The question now was: will she?

Tina knew she shouldn't have lost her patience with, not one, but _two_ Head Aurors, one of whom had been her former boss. However, she couldn't understand why they were trying to blame both her and Credence for the fact that Grindlewald escaped again, when she had led them to the catacombs, and Credence had saved their lives.

Taking a breath, Tina knew the only way she could get more information on Grindlewald was to go to the French Ministry.

'You're not an auror anymore, Tina,' she reminded herself.

But she couldn't just stop and go back to America. She just couldn't.

So, bracing herself, Tina apparated to the Sainte-Chapel.

~..~..~..~..

"What kind of spell is that, Newt?" Credence asked as he watched Newt's silvery platypus make its way to the castle to let Dumbledore and Imamu learn of their arrival.

"It's called the Patronus Charm," Newt explained.

"And it's used to send messages?" Credence had been wanting to ask about this spell ever since he first saw it. If he'd been able to send for help, back in that alley, his chest clenched at the memory, perhaps his obscurus would not have lashed out.

"Among other things," Newt explained as they waited. "The Patronus charm is a powerful protection spell, fuelled by a very powerful happy memory, and is used to deter the many dark creatures that exist in this world, such as dementors or lethifolds."

"What?" Credence asked, having never heard of either name before.

However, before Newt could answer, the iron gates swung open and Dumbledore was approaching them quickly.

"Oh, thank goodness," he greeted them with relief. "You're alright, Credence."

"He'd been taken to Paris," Newt began, "but we were able to rescue him. Then he rescued us."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore commented. "It seems there's been a lot of rescuing occurring tonight." The Hogwarts professor eyed Credence and the young man had the impression that his professor knew what had happened earlier that night.

Credence lowered his eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady.

' _Murderer_ …' a voice in his mind whispered.

' _I had no choice_ ,' he answered. ' _I had to protect myself_.'

"Are you alright Credence?" Newt asked, seeing the swirling emotions on the younger man's face.

"No doubt the shock of everything that's occurred tonight is starting to sink in." Dumbledore supplied, gesturing for Credence to come forward. "Come, Credence," he smiled. "It's late, but I think we can still squeeze a lesson in tonight. I'll drop him home to the bakery, Newt, and message Queenie and Jacob, to let them know he's safe." Dumbledore added. "No doubt your brother would want a word with you about tonight."

Newt nodded.

"I'd rather avoid it, if I'm honest," Newt smiled, but, like Tina, he figured he'd need to go back if he was going to get any closer to understanding Grindlewald's next move. "Good evening, then, Professor Dumbledore. Credence."

Newt touched the portkey again and disappeared.

Dumbledore turned to Credence seriously.

"Honesty," he echoed quietly and Credence realised that yes, his professor knew exactly what had happened.

"You didn't tell Newt and Tina, did you, Credence?" He asked.

"No," Credence answered hesitantly. He didn't think he could handle their looks of horror at what he'd done.

' _You had to protect yourself,_ ' a voice in his head whispered. ' _He was beating you, and he'd hurt Willow. What made Patrick better than Ma or Shaw?'_

Dumbledore nodded.

"What happened, Credence?" Dumbledore asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leading him up to the castle. "With that man in the alley?"

"He was beating me up," Credence's voice shook as he remembered Patrick's lifeless body, covered in the distinctive marks left by an obscurus.

"And your obscurus protected you?" Dumbledore queried, and Credence nodded automatically.

"I'm a monster, aren't I?" he whispered.

"No, you're not, Credence," Dumbledore was quick to assure him. "You just lost control."

"MACUSA will find me now," Credence was shaking. "They're going to kill me."

"No, they won't," Dumbledore assured him in determination.

"How do you know?" Credence asked.

Dumbledore took a breath.

"Because I covered for you," he admitted, to Credence's immense surprise as they began walking the halls towards Dumbledore's office. "It now looks like a muggle robbery." They walked in silence until they reached Dumbledore's office and entered, the professor spelling the door shut behind them.

"The muggle authorities should be finding the scene shortly," the professor muttered, as if to himself. "No one will link his death to you, Credence."

"Why did you do that?" Credence stammered, staring at his teacher in shock. He'd killed someone, and, rather than be horrified and turn him in, Dumbledore had helped to cover up the act.

"Your obscurus has killed three people before now, I believe," Dumbledore stated. "And you were meant to be dead yourself."

"Why did you do that?" Credence repeated. "You could go to prison for helping me."

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, appearing strangely calm about the affair as he lit candles, bringing some light into the dark room. "I daresay I could."

Credence stared, still in shock at his calmness.

"You're a teacher," he stammered.

"And you're a baker's assistant," Dumbledore countered. "I'm far from perfect, Credence," Dumbledore admitted, beginning to pace the room. "In fact, I'd say I'm the most selfish, hypocritical person I know."

That brought Credence up short.

"Why would you say that?" He asked slowly.

Dumbledore sighed, taking a seat at his desk, before standing up again to resume his pacing, apparently too full of energy to stay still.

"You ask why I'd help you cover up an obscurus attack, saving you from exposure, and risking myself going to prison?" Dumbledore began, gathering himself. "The short answer, I suppose, is: redemption."

Credence paused.

"Ariana," he said quietly, causing Dumbledore to raise his head in surprise.

"Your brother told me," Credence tried to explain, "when we went through the secret passage out of the castle."

Slowly, Dumbledore nodded.

"He said she was the reason Grindlewald now wants obscurials so badly," Credence added and this time, Dumbledore covered his face with his hands.

"Yes," he said in a muffled whisper. "This has not been the first time I, or my family, have helped to hide a murder to protect an obscurial."

Credence couldn't think of what to say. What _could_ he say? He didn't even know what he was feeling. Shock, guilt, relief, fear, anger, understanding, hope and a whole host of other questions, emotions and thoughts were swirling around his head.

"This is my fault," Dumbledore continued. "Because I was such a selfish brat, I lead my sister to the man who would cause her death, thereby inspiring him to find others, to join his cruel 'new wizard-world order'."

Lifting his gaze, Dumbledore finally had the courage to look Credence in the eye.

"I do not deserve forgiveness, for what my selfishness has caused," Dumbledore told the younger man. "But I hope, by helping you however I can, Credence- yes, even if it means covering up a loss of control- I may be able to save you, like I couldn't save my sister."

Aberforth had said something similar, Credence recalled.

"You're still being selfish then," he observed. "Helping me only to try and redeem yourself."

Chuckling humourlessly again, Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed," he agreed. "If only there were more people like Newt Scamander, the world would be a much kinder place."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I would like to make it clear that this was not the 'Showdown with Grindlewald' chapter, this was the 'Credence is revealed' chapter._

 _This was the time I had originally had Dumbledore telling Credence about his sister. I had originally written Dumbledore finding Credence after his obscurus had killed Patrick, covering for him and taking him to Hogwarts to tell his confession. However, with the story as it stands now, I felt that this would actually be the time when Credence was exposed and found by the bounty hunters and he gets his first sight of the real Grindlewald._

 _I had wondered though- how do you kidnap an obscurial?_

 _I figured 'everything has a weakness,' and while Credence's obscurus is obviously highly proficient at protecting Credence from physical and magical attacks, I thought perhaps something more subversive, like a potion would be the method Grimson and Skender would use to subdue him enough to transport him to Paris._

 _And, I figured, a common method in the non-magical community is using something like a chloroform-soaked cloth over a victim's mouth, so why wouldn't the wizarding community use a similar technique, when a spell would not likely work?_

 _Now, as to Credence's behaviour once he realised he's trapped in the cell, I thought anger would actually be his response, as he is overcoming his fears now, but still very damaged and I think anger is a natural progression from that. He's feeling like he's more in control, he's realising how powerful he is but he still doesn't yet have the knowledge or mentality to cope with stressful situations clearly and is still responding in a highly emotional state as he finally has an outlet._

 _And as Credence's magic, as well as his obscurus, reacts to his emotions, that's what made me think his obscurus was becoming more focused just as he was. He used to lash out, when he was made to supress his magic and emotions. Now that he has more leave to release them, his obscurus is becoming more precise as well, leading Credence to be able to direct, even subconsciously, his obscurus to do what he wants._

 _But after using it to escape not only the cell but the amphitheatre, herein lies his new conundrum: Did Credence really lose control of his obscurus when it attacked Patrick, or was his obscurus simply responding to his emotional direction to punish Patrick in defence of both himself and Willow?_

 _As Grindlewald and his followers managed to escape, I can imagine the Aurors being annoyed, but I felt Tina, much like Newt, would be getting tired of the jurisdiction and the blame game, and be focused solely on trying to protect Credence, so I had to write her talking back to Graves and Theseus before taking off. It was a chance for her to demonstrate how much she was fed up with the red tape, but still wanted to do her job._

 _Besides, she was no longer an auror, so she was under less obligation to do what she was told, as she now had no official superior she had to follow. So, it was a chance for her to have a bit of freedom to finally speak up for herself, rather than be obligated to bow down to the wishes of those further up on the hierarchy than she was._

 _I wanted Theseus to ask for a pensieve, as I remember it being used by Dumbledore in the Harry Potter books to revisit memories in greater detail in order to make connections he otherwise couldn't make whilst the memories were in his own head._

 _And, as crime scene investigators often try to recreate a crime scene to deduce what was involved, I can imagine the Aurors using something like a pensieve to revisit a scenario in order to see things they missed at the time of the event._

 _I would like to say a 'thank you' to LaBagette for giving me a better French phrase for Delacroix to give to her aurors. I don't speak French and clearly Wikipedia is not the best source for accurate language phrases._

 _As for Dumbledore, he, much like Grindlewald, would be able to detect magic easily, and I wondered how he would react when discovering Credence's obscurus had killed once again._

 _In the books, when Ariana originally became an obscurus, Dumbledore's father killed the muggles who had attacked her. He refused to say why he did so, to make sure his daughter didn't end up imprisoned herself._

 _Then, when Ariana killed Dumbledore's mother, Kendra, Aberforth and Albus had her funeral but still covered up the fact that it had been Ariana who had killed her, in order to protect their sister once again._

 _As such, I can imagine Albus Dumbledore doing what he could to cover up Credence's kill to avoid him being discovered by the ministry, as he is trying to protect Credence as he had failed to protect his little sister._

 _As for Grindlewald, I was watching a Comic Con panel video where Johnny Depp arrived, dressed as Grindlewald, to address the audience. I took his speech at Comic Con as a possibility as to what his speech could be in the catacombs, so I would like to put a disclaimer on Grindlewald's speech, which I hope to show more of in the next chapter as Theseus looks through the pensieve- Grindlewald's speech is not mine._

 _However, Grindlewald, being someone who has obvious legilimens ability- perhaps not a natural like Queenie, but still highly accomplished- I'd imagine he could tell when he was being approached, and knew that Newt was the person to target in order to bargain for Credence._

 _And, of course, Grindlewald's seen into Credence's mind before, as we saw in the first movie, so I'm sure he'd be able to see into Credence's mind again, in order to discover just how his magic is developing due to his training._

 _I could go on with my ideas and explanations, but I'll leave it here for now._

 _Please review, I love the feedback!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's note: Hi everybody! Thank you so much for all the reads and reviews! Here is Chapter eighteen! Hope you like it._

~..~..~..~..

Theseus brought his wand tip to his temple, focusing on his memory of being in the amphitheatre. As he pulled his wand away, a fine silver thread appeared to be attached and he dropped it into the stone basin to watch it swirl.

Delacroix's team had found a couple of stunned and immobilised wizards while combing the underground passages earlier, as well as a couple that appeared to have been trapped by the collapse of the ossuary. They were currently in the French holding areas being treated for their injuries before interrogation began.

"There is no point in interrogating a suspect if they are concussed," Delacroix had remarked when questioned about the healing treatment. "If they cannot think clearly, how can they give us reliable information?"

Graves' team had detected several magical signatures and were in the process of tracing them back to their source, trying to identify possible associates of Grindlewald's.

As for Grindlewald himself, no trace of him had been found. Theseus figured the man was powerful and clever enough to cover his tracks. But still, if they could study the people in the audience, it would give them a much more thorough idea as to what Grindlewald's intentions were.

Hence, Theseus now extracting his memory into the pensieve that Delacroix had ordered brought to him.

Theseus had also ordered a summons for Leta Lestrange to be brought to him from London and he hoped she would arrive by the morning. Tina had been following her trail into the catacombs in the first place, so of course, she was now a person of interest.

Leaning over the pensieve, Theseus watched as the amphitheatre room became visible in the basin.

A knock at the door sounded and Theseus looked up to see Tina Goldstein standing there, hesitantly.

"I," the woman swallowed nervously before clearing her throat. "I was wondering if I could be of any help, Auror Scamander?"

Theseus considered. Tina was no longer an auror for MACUSA, however, she was still trying to do her investigative duties. Much like she had in New York, investigating the Second Salemers, he realised, recalling Newt's stories of her. Here was a woman highly dedicated to her job.

But still, he didn't like the fact that she'd spoken so disrespectfully to himself and Graves earlier.

That being said, he countered, they wouldn't have got nearly as far as they had tonight if it hadn't been for Tina Goldstein.

"You can come in, Miss Goldstein," Theseus granted measuredly and the woman stepped inside his makeshift office with relief.

"I, uh," Tina began slowly as she approached. "I feel I should apologise for my conduct earlier, Sir."

"It was conduct unbefitting an auror," he said firmly, and Tina lowered her eyes. "However, it was understandable of a civilian who was trying to protect her charge."

Tina raised her eyes cautiously and Theseus felt himself smile, despite himself.

"As Newt may have told you, I am very… focused, when I believe I have a cause, and a job to do," he told her slowly. "This can cause me to have tunnel vision, and it can lead me to being very… bull-headed, I suppose, at times."

Tina quirked a smile.

"Even if he hadn't, Sir," Tina told him, "I was getting that impression."

Theseus smiled, nodding.

"You're much like Mr Graves, really," Tina added. "He's very focused in his work, too."

"Well," Theseus took a breath, "You did make a fair point, Miss Goldstein," he granted slowly, swallowing. "We'd been focusing so much on Credence, we took our eyes off Grindlewald."

He looked up at her curiously.

"Is the obscu- Credence, with you?" He asked, his eyes traveling back to the door as if expecting someone else to walk in.

"No," Tina stated firmly.

Theseus raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Is he alright?" He asked slowly.

Tina frowned, unsure whether Theseus was being genuine in his concern or not.

"He's safe," she answered measuredly.

"Good," Theseus nodded slowly. "I never got to thank him for his help." He saw Tina's clear wariness and realised he'd have to do more to gain trust.

"Perhaps we can focus on Grindlewald and his followers in the ossuary?" He invited Tina to come closer.

Theseus took another breath, placing his hands either side of the stone basin.

"For now," he continued, "we can get a clearer idea of what he wants and who he's talking to."

He looked back up at the former auror.

"Care to join me, Miss Goldstein?"

Tina stared.

"You want me to examine the memory with you?" She queried. "I thought you'd want to study it with Delacroix, Graves, or even Cousteau."

"You were there," Theseus reminded her. "Delacroix and Cousteau are overseeing the wizards we found unconscious in the catacombs and Graves and his team are still searching the ossuary, looking for further evidence. My own team, I've got investigating various leads of people I could recognise and remember in the amphitheatre. Now," he held out a hand, "shall we see what we missed the first time around?"

"I'm not an auror," she reminded him.

"Then what are you doing here?" Theseus countered. "You may no longer have the job title, but a less devoted person would have returned home by now."

Tina looked at the man's hand for a moment before grabbing it.

Theseus then bent over the pensieve, and in moments, they were pulled into the memory.

After a whirl of colour and disorientation as she fell, Tina soon found herself standing on a stone floor. Looking up, she started slightly as she saw Theseus literally staring at himself.

There was Theseus, standing beside her in the stone amphitheatre, and there was Theseus, his past self, pressing close to a stone pillar as he snuck glances into the crowd.

And there, pressing into a second pillar, a kneazle huddling fearfully against him as he tried to soothe it, was Newt.

'Of course, he'd have a creature with him,' Tina thought fondly as she studied the man before her. She'd never really had the chance to just _look_ at Newt before. The man avoided eye contact at the best of times.

Tina spotted Picket the bowtruckle, as always, peering out from the magizoologist's coat pocket. Newt's grip was tight on his case, as if he was afraid someone in the room would want to take it from him. His other hand stroked the kneazle, attempting to comfort the cat-like creature that was huddled against his leg.

Theseus glanced at Goldstein as he recovered from the landing and was struck by her soft expression as she gazed at the 'memory version' of Newt.

"When you're done admiring my little brother, Miss Goldstein, perhaps we could get to work?" Theseus called over his shoulder as he made his way down the stone steps, his voice trying to be admonishing, but unable to keep the smile hidden.

"I wasn't-" Tina spluttered before regaining her composure. "Is this why you invited me along, Sir?" she hurried to catch up, blushing furiously, as they made their way towards the stage, studying the crowds. "To make fun of me?"

"Quite the contrary, Tina," Theseus assured her.

There was a hush as the audience seemed, in unison, to sit up straighter, and Theseus and Tina's eyes turned toward the stage as Grindlewald walked into view.

" _My brothers,"_ Grindlewald greeted with open arms. " _Sisters. Friends_."

There was little fanfare, but the simplicity just seemed to make the wizard's presence all the more dramatic. Grindlewald didn't need any great announcements, or introductions, he just _was_.

" _You came to me because you crave something new. Something different."_ He continued. _"The moment has come: Open your minds, and I will share with you, the future."_

"Alright, who else is here?" Theseus had taken a notebook out of his pocket and was scanning the crowd, writing down the names of every person he could recognise.

"Next time you examine this," Tina suggested, "maybe you should bring a camera?"

"Good idea, Goldstein," Theseus granted as he wrote.

'Why did Graves fire her again?' He wondered. 'Oh, that's right: she objected to her sister's arrest after she helped to hide an obscurial.'

'An obscurial who saved my life in this place _,_ ' Theseus reminded himself.

" _It has been said that I hate the 'non-magic'_ ," Grindlewald was saying calmly. " _The 'muggle'. The 'no-maj'. The 'can't-spell'. But I do not hate them. I do not."_

"Oh, really?" Tina asked sceptically, hopping onto the stage to get a closer look at the man.

Grindlewald's clothes were classy, if a little rumpled. He wasn't wearing a tie, but had his top shirt buttons undone. Tina wondered if this was intentional, for surely a man like Grindlewald understood the importance of an impression when giving an address. Although, she noted, his disregard for formality in his attire matched his greeting his audience as 'friends'. She recalled his stint as Mr Graves, and remembered how he was often professional but still personal with the members of his team, even coming to comfort her after she'd first brought Newt in, when she'd interrupted the investigative team, telling her not to take the criticism to heart.

So perhaps, Tina theorised, Grindlewald was trying, not to create distance between himself and his audience, but create a level of informality and trust.

'He likes to understand people, so he can gain their trust to know how to manipulate them', she mused.

" _I say that muggles are not the lesser, but they're not of value_." Grindlewald continued.

"Not of _value_?" Tina echoed. Was this Grindlewald's way of trying to be diplomatic, so those wizards from non-magical families would not feel excluded, and also join him?

"Tina, what were you doing while this speech was going on?" Theseus asked, pausing in his note-taking. "I saw you on the stairs, but-"

"I was backstage, looking for Credence," Tina explained, moving over to the stairs to the right of the stage.

"Through here," she gestured to the door

She tried to open it, but of course her hand went right through the door knob. She couldn't affect a memory, only watch it.

" _Magic blooms only in rare souls."_ Grindlewald told his audience, who, Tina noticed were nodding sagely, as if Grindlewald were speaking a truth they had always known _. "It is granted to those who live for higher things, if only the world will let them. Still, we must skulk in shadows."_

Grindlewald paused dramatically.

" _My friends: The old ways serve us no longer."_

Applause broke out amongst the crowd.

" _I have had a vision."_ Gridlewald continued. _"A vision where we rise up to take our place as Masters of this world."_

More applause, this time a couple even cheered.

" _Out of all of humanity._ _ **All**_ _of humanity, we: who live for freedom… For Truth…"_

Grindlewald paused again, arms open, inviting the whole audience to join his cause

" _The moment has come, to rise up and take our rightful place in the world."_

Grindlewald raised his wand up to cheers from his followers.

Theseus cast his eyes over the audience one more time, and froze as he saw a pair of faces he recognised all too well...

Lorraine and Corvinus Lestrange.

Leta's parents.

He felt his stomach sink as he thought of Newt, and how Tina had followed Leta's trail down to this place. Leta wasn't here, as part of the rally, but her parents were.

And Leta clearly had been there.

Theseus took a deep breath.

'How was Newt going to take this?' He wondered in concern. Leta had already broken his heart once before, when she broke contact with him after he got expelled.

On the stage, Grindlewald smiled.

" _Now, ladies and Gentlemen, I feel the time has come for us to part ways."_ he concluded his speech. " _For as I speak, there are currently a group of aurors on their way here, on a mission to trap me."_ He grinned as a ripple of shock passed through the theatre.

" _Thank you for coming, Mr Scamander_ ," Grindlewald grinned.

Theseus looked up as members of the audience began disapparating.

Grindlewald began to laugh.

" _Come on out,"_ he invited as the last audience member disappeared. " _Did you really think I hadn't noticed you? I could tell the moment you entered the first passageway."_

Tina turned, and she could just see the forms of Theseus and Newt still hiding behind the stone pillars, staring at each other in an unspoken question.

" _You didn't hear anything I didn't want you to_ ," Grindlewald continued. " _In fact, you got to see just how many people believe in what I'm saying: that we should rise above the shadows to walk in the light. Masters of this world, as we should be."_

Theseus looked up the auditorium stairs as he saw himself step out behind the pillar and into view.

" _Mr Grindlewald: By order of the Ministry for Magic, I am placing you under arrest."_

Grindlewald laughed.

" _You're out of your jurisdiction, I believe, Auror Scamander,"_ he mocked. " _But you're not the one I wanted to talk to."_

Theseus frowned as Newt stepped out.

"Why is Grindlewald so interested in Newt?" Theseus asked aloud.

"Well, he did capture Grindlewald in New York," Tina suggested from the stairs.

" _There you are. Welcome, Mr Scamander."_ Grindlewald greeted. " _How is my friend Albus? I've heard he has a promising new student."_

"Or maybe," Theseus mused, "it has something to do with Dumbledore."

"He and Grindlewald were friends when they were younger," Tina recalled and Theseus nodded, remembering Graves telling him after interviewing Dumbledore at Hogwarts, as well as learning from interviewing Bathilda Bagshot.

" _You think I didn't know_?" Grindlewald asked. " _My followers are very good at giving me the help and information I need."_

"I want to know which of his followers is giving him information about Credence," Tina said firmly. "But I didn't recognise anyone in the audience."

"I'll go through the names with you," Theseus promised. "Maybe there's a name you'll recognise."

Grindlewald clicked his fingers and blue flames burst to life around the perimeter of the room.

"This is where you came in?" Theseus asked Tina. He had to remind himself that the flames couldn't harm him in a memory as he stepped through them to join the woman on the stairs.

Tina gestured once more to the door just before it slowly inched open and a gasp was heard along with shuffling footsteps.

" _Get out, quick_ ," she heard her own voice hiss. " _Stay safe. I have to help Newt and Theseus_."

" _Newt_ ," a second voice, who Theseus guessed to be Credence, whispered. After seeing his display of power, the auror was surprised at how soft-spoken the young man sounded.

With a wave of his hand, Gellert removed the chameleon charm and Tina was confronted with the odd situation of staring at herself.

Theseus, on the other hand was studying the young man more closely.

" _This is Credence Barebone?"_ Theseus heard himself say from the centre of the room.

Theseus stared. This was the obscurial Tina had lost her job twice for, in order to protect. This was the obscurial who Grindlewald had searched for months trying to find and coerce to join his cause.

This was the obscurial who had destroyed and rebuilt an entire underground labyrinth single handed, using wandless magic.

But looking at the man's pale skin and haunted, dark eyes, Theseus was finally able to put a true face to the one they'd been so eager to capture.

"So, this is Credence," he whispered.

" _You lower your wand, Theseus, and give Credence to me, Tina_ ," Grindlewald was saying, his wand pointed at Newt, "or _I will kill him."_

He then shifted his gaze to Newt coldly.

" _When you die, Mr Scamander_ ," he put forward, " _do you think Albus Dumbledore will mourn for you?"_

"Would you have done it?" Theseus asked, turning to Tina. "Would you have given him Credence to save Newt?"

"Would you?" Tina countered.

Theseus gave her a look. "An obscurial I don't know over my brother? For me, the decision would have been easy. The only thing I was thinking of, at the time" he admitted, "is how Credence could be used further as a bargaining chip, seeing as how Grindlewald wanted him so badly. I was trying to think of how to buy time. So, the question is: would _you_ have handed Credence over to save my brother, Tina?"

Tina swallowed.

"Newt wouldn't have let me, even if I wanted to," she told Theseus firmly as she stepped through the flames to stand beside the memory-version of Newt. "There's always another option, even if it's less obvious." She smiled, glancing back at the figures on the stairs. "And Credence found it."

"Newt and I both agreed to protect Credence, and I know he has been willing to risk his life for him before, just as I have." Tina studied Newt carefully as he spoke to Grindlewald, trying to distract the man.

"You see, that's the extraordinary thing about Newt, Theseus," Tina continued. "He will always give everything he has to someone in need of help, because that's the kind of person he is. It's his _heart_ that makes him stand above everyone else, and he doesn't even see that in himself."

Theseus studied Tina carefully, his expression difficult to read.

At that moment in the memory, Credence exploded furiously, his obscurus form filling the room like a sandstorm. Cracks appeared in the ceiling and dirt, bone and rock began to fall on their heads before the entire thing began to collapse.

This time, through the falling rubble and debris that couldn't harm them in a memory, Tina and Theseus raced over to Grindlewald, for they had realised that he was saying something.

" _Such loyalty among friends_ ," the man mused with a smile. " _But such power. You will see, Credence, that you will never be truly accepted by them. When sunk to the deepest pits of despair, you will come to me. You will only gain true freedom with_ _my help_."

The wizard disapparated and in a swirl of colour and sound, Tina and Theseus soon found themselves back in the office, the pensieve swirling innocently on the desk.

"Well, that was interesting," Theseus commented drily, shaking himself off.

"'When sunk to the pits of despair'," Tina quoted slowly, feeling her heart sink at the words alone.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Auror Scamander."

~..~..~..~..

Dumbledore and Credence apparated outside Jacob's bakery. It was so late it was early but still, the lights were on upstairs.

"Looks like they've been waiting for you, Credence," Dumbledore told him. "They must have been worried about you."

Credence swallowed.

He had friends who cared about him, he reminded himself. But that knowledge only made him more fearful of their reaction of what he'd done.

Footsteps could be heard as they approached the door.

Queenie must know we're here, Credence thought.

He froze.

Queenie wold know what he did, he realised, suddenly unable to breathe.

He couldn't lie to Queenie. _No one_ could lie to Queenie.

She would know and she would see him as a monster.

She would make him leave, he knew it. No one wants to live with a monster.

He couldn't handle that. He couldn't. He didn't want-

The door flew open and Queenie rushed out to hug Credence close.

"You're not a monster," she told him. "You have a home here. We care about you and want you to stay."

After everything he'd been through that night, this assurance proved too much for Credence and he broke down, tears falling onto Queenie's shoulder as she stroked his hair.

A mother's embrace… After experiencing the coldness and hatred from his Ma, Credence had often wondered what a real mother's embrace would feel like. One full of unconditional love and acceptance.

That was what Queenie's hugs were like.

"That was a horrible thing Patrick did to you," Queenie was telling him. "I can understand you losing control like that, Honey. And a real monster would not feel guilty about it. That's how I know you're a good person, Credence."

Queenie pulled back slightly so she could look Credence in the eye.

"You _are_ a good person, Credence," she told him. "You wanted to help Willow tonight and you did," she reminded him. "You saved my sister and Newt. You protected yourself and you got everyone out safely. And you stood up for yourself, too: Not letting the Aurors blame you, and fixing the damage you'd done, to show your control and desire to help."

She turned to Dumbledore.

"Thank you for trying to protect him, Mr Dumbledore," She told the Hogwarts professor, studying him carefully. She seemed to want to say something else, but appeared unsure as to how to say it.

"Do we not do all we can to protect our friends and loved ones?" Dumbledore spoke up quickly.

Queenie seemed to be gathering her courage.

"Ariana-" she began.

"Credence, I'm glad you're safe now," Dumbledore cut her off, placing a hand on his student's shoulder. "I'll leave you in the care of your friends. As for me I must get to bed, as should you. I hope to see you for your next class, Credence. Goodnight, Mrs Kowalski."

Turning, Dumbledore took five steps and disapparated.

Sighing, Queenie turned back to Credence.

"Come on in, Honey," she took up his arm and lead him inside. "Jacob's making cocoa for us. I know you've been through a lot tonight, but I want to learn more about what happened." She smiled. "Starting with Willow in the park."

~..~..~..~..

Graves was issuing orders to his team as he walked up to the main offices in the French Ministry when a, now familiar, movement caught his eye and he turned in time to see Newt Scamander enter the building.

"Mr Scamander," he called and the magizoologist ducked his head, as if trying to appear non-threatening.

"Hello Mr Graves," Newt greeted warily.

"Perfect timing," Graves gestured for the British wizard to join him. "I was just about to join Theseus to go over what we've learned from examining the ossuary. As you were there, Mr Scamander, perhaps you could prove insightful."

"I'll do what I can, Sir," Newt assured him. "Though I must say I'm glad you're not arresting me."

"We're in Paris," Graves reminded Newt evenly. "I'm out of my jurisdiction."

Heading off along the walkway, Graves continued to listen to his team's reports, sending others off on errands and information gathering until only a couple remained walking with him.

They soon turned down a corridor and Graves entered through a doorway without knocking.

Newt followed, taking a moment to admire the large office space, before realising his brother was in the room, accompanied by Tina Goldstein, and a stone basin he recognised as a pensieve sat on the desk. The pair seemed in deep discussion as Theseus scribbled away on a piece of parchment.

Newt figured they were working on recording what they'd seen in the catacombs, but still, he couldn't help feeling a strange clawing sensation in his chest when he noticed how close together the two were, as they studied their work.

The pair looked up as they entered and Newt felt the clawing feeling in his chest fade as Tina smiled brightly upon spotting him.

"Newt," she greeted brightly.

Newt felt himself smiling back, almost involuntarily, before ducking his head once more.

' _Stop it, Newt_ ,' he admonished himself.

"Mr Graves, Sir," Tina nodded to her former boss. "I'm just helping Auror Scamander go over the events in the amphitheatre where Grindlewald made his address."

"Thank you, Miss Goldstein," Graves said evenly. "It's always helpful to get an eye witness account."

'Eye Witness'? Newt blanched at the comment as Tina lowered her eyes. Was that all Graves saw her as?

Clearly, Graves hadn't yet forgiven Tina's rudeness after Credence was revealed.

"I'd thought you'd be a bit more grateful to Tina, Mr Graves," Newt found himself saying, "seeing as she was the one to lead you to the ossuary in the first place."

Graves turned his gaze onto Newt as the couple of aurors remaining of Graves' team gave each other looks of surprise at the gall of this civilian who would speak to their boss this way.

"What?" Newt queried in confusion. "It's true: You were blaming Credence for losing 'the biggest lead' you had on Grindlewald, but if it weren't for Tina and Credence, you wouldn't know about the ossuary at all, or have any of the suspects currently in custody."

"Newt-" Theseus cautioned.

"Even though you fired her for objecting to her sister's arrest, which _was_ completely unfounded, by the way," Newt continued, his tone reasonable, "Tina is _still_ trying to do her job. And she got further in one night, then your entire team have achieved since you arrived in London before Christmas."

Tina stared at Newt in shock. For, while she was touched by his defence of her, she was still worried about how Mr Graves would react.

Still, she supposed she shouldn't be surprised by Newt's words. His tone remined her forcibly of when they first found Jacob and Newt remarked on how absurd he thought the laws in America were regarding interactions with the non-magical community.

Graves regarded Newt carefully, his expression difficult to read.

"You don't like rules and hierarchy, do you Mr Scamander?" He asked the magizoologist slowly.

"Not really," Newt answered lightly, though he considered the question seriously. "While I understand the basic premise is to ensure safety, there are some instances where it seems to do just the opposite. This whole situation, for example," he gestured to Graves and Theseus. "You're always arguing over who has 'jurisdiction' or 'authority' rather than actually getting on with the job, like Tina is."

Graves turned to look at Theseus, who raised his hands defensively.

"There's nothing you can say about him I haven't already heard or said myself," it seemed the elder Scamander brother had had arguments with his younger sibling many occasions prior.

"No wonder you two don't get along so well," Graves muttered.

"We generally work best if we stay out of each other's way," Theseus granted with a smirk. "Speaking of which, let me show you what Tina and I have been working on so far."

Newt and Graves approached the desk. Newt seemed to finally realise he may have annoyed Graves, rather than enlighten him, and he kept his eyes low.

'Well, it wouldn't be the first time you've annoyed someone,' he told himself.

Cautiously, he snuck a glance at Tina, just in time for her to meet his gaze. She smiled at him, and Newt felt gratified that she, at least, appreciated his efforts.

"We've identified a number of people I missed the first time," Theseus updated Graves, holding up a sheet of notepaper with a list of names before passing it to one of the aurors at Graves' side.

"Can you send an owl to the British Ministry?" He instructed. "This is a list of all the persons of interest we need to get a hold of. I want a summons ordered for each of them. And, I want them here tomorrow."

"Do it, Harcourt," Graves ordered, when the man seemed hesitant to follow Auror Scamander's instruction.

"Yes Sir, Mr Graves," Harcourt nodded before leaving.

"What about you, Graves?" Auror Scamander asked. "What brings you and my brother here?"

"Oh, I just came to see if I could help, Theseus," Newt said quickly, trying his best not to look at Tina. And failing miserably.

The elder Scamander brother raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"Graves?" He prompted.

Auror Graves stepped forward, rolling a piece of parchment over the desk.

"This is a plan we've made showing the rooms surrounding the amphitheatre in the catacombs," he began. "As well as the injured wizards that were left stranded when the ossuary collapsed, we also found several items of interest, including a bag full with thousands of galleons we suspect were the same ones stolen from Gringots bank. It was found with a couple of wizards who had been knocked out by the masonry, so we'll find out if the gold was their payment, and what the job was, once Delacroix has them healed enough to be able to speak a coherent sentence. I'll send a message to Gringots Bank in London, as well," he added. "See if the goblins will come and be able to verify the gold's origins."

Tina frowned.

"Were these wizards found in a room just under the stage, near a stairwell?" She asked.

Graves looked at her directly for the first time since entering the room.

"Yes," the man answered simply.

"Those were likely the men that were hired to bring Credence to Grindlewald," the former auror surmised. "That was how I knew Credence was there, I overheard them talking."

Graves considered this before nodding.

"They'll be the first I interview, then," he muttered.

As if on cue, Deputy Head Auror Cousteau entered the room.

"The suspects are recovered enough and ready for questioning," He informed the visiting Head Aurors. "Auror Delacroix will meet you in the interrogation chambers immediately."

"Finally," Graves cheered under his breath striding towards the door. "Time to get some solid answers."

"Anything we can do, Theseus?" Newt asked his brother as he passed him.

"Rest," Theseus told him, looking as though he wished to do the same. "It's almost morning and we'll likely have a long day tomorrow. I'll probably end up napping here, so I can interrogate the persons of interest we identified in the amphitheatre when they arrive." Now it was Theseus who avoided his brother's eyes.

"I'd like you to meet me here first thing tomorrow, Newt," he told him.

"Why?" Asked the magizoologist. "I'm hardly going to be useful in an interrogation."

"You might want to be a part of this one," Theseus said, before frowning. "Besides, your kneazles can sense deceit, yes?"

Newt nodded.

"Might be useful," Theseus mused before raising his eyes to Newt's. "Do you have somewhere to sleep?" He asked his younger brother.

"I'll just sleep in my case," Newt gestured to the item in his hands. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Theseus nodded.

"Well, just keep it in here, then," he cautioned. "Don't want anyone walking away with it." The British Auror then took his leave before Newt could ask anything further.

Newt swallowed as he realised he'd been left in an empty room with Tina Goldstein, who sighed in disappointment.

It only took Newt a moment to realise why.

"I'm sorry you can't take part, Tina," he told her sympathetically. Here she was, having been the one to lead the three Head Aurors to the very site where they found their suspects, and now she could no longer be a part of the investigation.

Tina shrugged. She was no longer an auror, she reminded herself sadly.

"I've been allowed to do more than I thought I could," she tried to stay positive, but couldn't keep the tightness out of her voice. She shoved her hands in her pockets, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on her shoes.

"You can join me when I see Theseus tomorrow," Newt promised quickly, wanting to say something to give her hope.

"Thank you, Newt," Tina smiled fondly as she approached him and Newt was struck for a moment as he finally met her eyes.

' _Stop it, Newt_ ,' he told himself as he lowered his eyes.

"Do you think your brother would let me but into an interrogation without invitation, though?" She asked, unsure.

"I believe I just invited you," Newt countered to Tina's amusement and gratitude. "Besides," he added, dropping his gaze, "he'd be mad not to. If it weren't for you, Theseus, Graves and Delacroix would still be lost."

Tina smiled and again, Newt felt himself smiling back involuntarily. Tina's smiles just seemed to do that to him-

'Stop _it, Newt_ ,' he told himself again, lowering his eyes. ' _What's the matter with you?_ '

Tina seemed disappointed that Newt had broken eye contact so abruptly. Had she done something wrong?

She sighed. She knew Newt wasn't comfortable with meeting people's eyes, perhaps he found it too confronting. Still, even if he only saw her as a friend, she had hoped that they were close enough now that he could feel comfortable around her.

Although, considering how Newt was still standing, shoulders hunched, with both hands clasping his case in front of him, as if keeping up a barrier, Tina supposed not.

"I really should check on my creatures," Newt muttered with a frown, casting his eyes around the room for a suitable place for his suitcase.

"Of course," Tina nodded, taking this as her cue to leave.

"Well," she tried not to sound as saddened at the dismissal as she felt. "I suppose I'd better find a hotel or something," she began, in search of something to say.

Newt snapped his head up.

"What?"

"Well, I can't stay here, sleeping at a desk," she reminded the man. "I'm not an auror."

Newt swallowed as he watched the woman make her way towards the door.

"Tina," he called, and as the woman turned, Newt just realised he had no idea what he wanted to say. He just knew that this was the first time in a couple of days they'd actually been able to pause to catch their breath, and he didn't want her to leave just yet, late as it was.

"Would you help me feed my creatures?" Newt asked after a moment's hurried thinking.

Tina's expression seemed surprised before she melted into another smile.

"I'd like that," she nodded.

Newt smiled in relief, before gesturing her to follow him down the ladder into his case.

~..~..~..~..

Graves and Theseus followed Cousteau downstairs until they arrived in a corridor where Delacroix was waiting for them.

"Gentlemen," Delacroix nodded as they approached. "Glad you could join me."

"What have we got?" Graves asked eagerly.

"These three men were recovered from the wreckage in the room the gold was discovered in," Delacroix gestured to three large windows along one side of the corridor, each looking in to a separate interrogation room. "Out of all the suspects we've discovered, these three have been identified as the most…interesting. I thought these should be the first we question."

"This man," she gestured to the wizard in the far-left room, "has been identified as Skender, a circus owner who was passing through London."

"A circus owner?" Theseus echoed, recalling the circus where Newt had claimed to have rescued several creatures from at his promotion.

"This man is Drefan Travers," Delacroix gestured to the man in the centre room.

"I know him," Theseus stepped closer to the glass. "His brother, Torquil, is the head of the Magical Law Enforcement department at the ministry."

"The ones in charge of the Gringots robbery?" Graves queried.

"Yes," Theseus considered. Maybe Drefan was the one responsible for the heist?

"And this is Grimson," Delacroix gestured to the wizard in the cell on the right. "He's a wanted bounty hunter."

"A bounty hunter?" Graves repeated with interest. "Sounds like that gold we found was what he was there to collect."

"We should interview him first, then?" Theseus suggested, recalling Tina's words. "Find out if he was the one trying to hand Credence to Grindlewald?"

Delacroix considered.

"Cousteau and I will interview Grimson," she announced. "You and Graves will take Travers."

"And Skender?" Graves prompted.

"We'll see what the other two give us," Delacroix supplied. Nodding to Cousteau, she made her way to the right-hand room and entered.

"Shall we?" Theseus gestured to the middle room and Graves led the way.

"Mr Travers," Theseus greeted as the pair entered and he couldn't help but smile as the man's face turned white upon seeing him.

"How is your brother Torquil doing?" He asked.

~..~..~..~..

Tina couldn't help but smile as she watched the fluffy mooncalves gobble up their food as the pellets floated in mid-air.

Newt, of course was handling all of the larger creatures, such as the erumpent and the nundu, but Tina was more than happy to help with the smaller creatures. She'd topped up the fwooper feeders, left offerings of maggots for the bowtruckles, and scattered worms and insects out for the new nifflers, who fell on the food with gutso. As Tina had cast her eyes over the Niffler nest, she realised that Newt's missing niffler will be very annoyed when he returns to find his treasure trove had been ransacked.

The new nifflers were clearly recovering from their ordeal in the circus, if their treasure hoarding habits were returning.

Tina placed the mooncalf feeding bucket aside as she picked up the next order: stewed meat for the kneazles.

A couple of the kneazles had gum or teeth problems, and so Newt had felt soft meat would be an easier way for them to get more nutrients into their bodies.

As she approached the small enclosure Newt had set up, the cat-like creatures were all waiting eagerly for her, winding themselves around her ankles as she entered.

"Alright, alright," Tina chuckled, trying not to trip as they meowed around her, pawing at her legs or at the food bucket, wanting their meal.

Finally, she made it to their feeding bowls and, giving them a quick clean with a wave of her wand, Tina then levitated the food bowls out of reach of the kneazles, spooning out the meat evenly before placing them on the ground together.

' _Best to place all the food bowls down together, that way they won't be fighting over it,'_ Newt had told her.

At least, Tina figured, that was the theory.

"No," she admonished one kneazle who was trying to steal from another's portion. "You eat your own food," she picked up the creature and placed it in front of another bowl, where it continued to practically inhale its food.

"You guys must be hungry, huh?" She asked.

"When animals are being exploited, the people responsible often don't worry about things like basic care," a voice spoke and Tina looked up to spy Newt approaching.

He'd removed his coat and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, looking far more relaxed and confident than she'd ever seen him.

Although, she reminded herself, Newt did prefer the company of creatures to people.

"Everyone's sorted," he announced happily before carefully picking up the pregnant kneazle as she finished her meal.

"Let's have a look at you," Newt said, his voice soothing the animal as he carefully began examining her, squeezing her overlarge belly in places.

Tina studied Newt's hands as he carefully but gently went about his work. His movements were confident and sure, indicating that he had not only done similar examinations of creatures before, but that he was very aware of what to look for and how to keep his creatures relaxed, for the kneazle was still purring contently in his arms, completely trusting this human man who had rescued her from the circus.

"What are you feeling for?" Tina asked curiously.

Newt looked up, with a smile, meeting Tina's eyes directly before reaching out to her.

"Come here," he invited eagerly. "Give me your hand."

Moving forward, Tina held out her hand and Newt took it, placing his hand over hers as he positioned their hands together over the kneazle's belly.

Tina swallowed as she fixed her eyes on their hands, and it suddenly dawned on her how close they were to each other, with only this cat-like kneazle between them.

"Now, just press gently here," Newt was instructing, his focus, of course, on the kneazle. "And place your other hand," he took it up, "here," he placed Tina's hand on the kneazle's other side.

Tina was surprised at how firm the muscles were around the kneazle's swollen belly.

"It feels harder than I thought it would," she said without thinking, before cringing. That did _not_ come out the way she'd intended.

But Newt, thankfully, seemed completely unaware of any double meaning.

"The womb creates something of a shield, to protect the growing kittens inside," he explained, nodding his understanding of her statement. "So, the muscles surrounding them do become quite firm, to protect the kittens from any minor knocks the mother may receive whilst living her life, such as when climbing. But if you just press a little harder…"

Newt, his hands over Tina's, pressed further into the kneazle's side and Tina gasped as she felt a shape underneath the firm muscle.

"Mercy Lewis," she yelped in surprise as the shape _moved_ against her fingers, to Newt's great amusement.

"And there is a kitten," he grinned, guiding her hands further around the pregnant kneazle.

"One…two…three…four kittens, to be exact," Newt surmised.

"Wow," Tina marvelled as Newt gently released her hands, though she continued to stroke the purring mother-to-be.

"You're going to have _four_ babies," she cooed to it as she scratched it behind the ears. "How long now?" She asked Newt. "Can you tell?"

"Well, on a healthy kneazle, yes," Newt qualified. "However, as she was likely starved while at the circus, there is a chance that her kittens didn't get the nourishment they needed. She feels about half way, but if the kittens are under nourished, they wouldn't be growing as fast. And her teats are already starting to distend," he added, "she could be approaching full term, and her babies may just be tiny."

He reached out and stroked a hand gently along the pregnant kneazles back, eliciting another purr.

"I promise," Newt told the kneazle, "to do everything I can to ensure you have a healthy litter," he told her and Tina couldn't help but smile at the pure sincerity of his promise to the animal.

"Your creatures are so lucky to have you, Newt," she told him as she continued to stroke the kneazle, who seemed quite content to stay on her lap. "You can really _see_ them, even when others can't. You have a gift with them."

"Thank you, Tina," Newt smiled, glad someone saw his work as worthwhile. "I still have a long way to go to convince my fellow wizards about them, though."

"Well, your book will surely help with that," she told him surely.

Stroking the kneazle's soft, though still patchy, fur, Tina could feel as well as hear the quiet rumbling of the creature's purring, and found it very soothing.

She and Newt had nearly been killed in that amphitheatre, she recalled, the full realisation only hitting her now.

So much had happened today…

"Newt," she spoke up softly, causing the magizoologist to look up from examining the healing of another kneazle's scab-covered skin as Hoppy tried to wiggle under his arm, demanding attention.

"About what happened in the amphitheatre…" Tina began. "When Grindlewald demanded Credence for your life…"

"Thank you for not agreeing to the trade, Tina," Newt spoke up quickly, not wanting her to feel guilty. "You and I both want to protect Credence. There's always another option," he smiled. "Good thing Credence found it."

"But your life _is_ important to me," Tina insisted, wanting to make sure Newt understood that. "I didn't want Grindlewald to kill you."

"I didn't want him to either," Newt had no problem confessing. "But I didn't want him to have Credence." He met her eyes steadily.

"Thank you for protecting him, Tina," he told her sincerely. "Credence knows he's always safe, now, because you're looking out for him."

"I wanted to be an auror to protect others," Tina seemed to be getting drowsier with every sentence. "And then I get fired for it."

Newt looked up to find Tina still stroking the kneazle, a sad expression on her face.

"You'll find another position, Tina," he assured her. "With a team that can truly appreciate the dedication you have to a cause."

"You're so good, Newt," Tina mumbled as she closed her eyes, only intending to rest them for a moment.

Newt quietly continued his work, and once he'd ascertained all the kneazles were recovering well, he looked over to Tina, to find her hand had stilled and was resting on the kneazle's side as the cat-like creature lay, utterly at ease on the woman's lap. Tina's head was resting on the tree she'd been leaning against and her breathing was slow and even.

Cautiously, Newt approached her. Should he wake her? She looked so peaceful, and she had certainly earned a sleep, and it was so late…

Still, sleeping against a tree would not be comfortable, surely, he surmised.

Hesitantly, Newt reached out a hand and gently brushed his fingers against the woman's cheek.

"Tina?" He said quietly.

Tina's eyes didn't open, though Newt swore he felt her lean slightly into his touch.

He swallowed, trying to think of the proper thing to do under the circumstances.

Well, he considered, the least he could do would be to make Tina more comfortable.

Retrieving his wand, he gently cast a spell to lift Tina off the ground, and carefully, he carried her to the potting shed where he transfigured a small bed before gently laying her down on it.

'There,' he thought as he placed a blanket around Tina's shoulders. 'At least she'll be comfortable until the morning.'

Pausing, Newt took a moment to study the woman sleeping peacefully before him.

There was something so innocent about Tina's expression while she was sleeping, he observed. He studied the curve of her eyebrows above eyelids he knew hid eyes as dark as chocolate from view.

Tina shifted in her sleep and a strand of hair fell across her face.

Without thinking, Newt reached out and gently swept the dark strands back behind her ear, his fingers barely brushing her skin as he tried not to disturb her slumber.

As he paused, his fingers still touching Tina's raven hair, he was struck by the emotion suddenly welling in his chest.

' _What is this?_ ' he wondered, as he examined the feeling, trying to find the reason behind it.

Newt focused on this feeling in his chest and was surprised as he felt tears welling in his eyes.

Why was he wanting to cry? He wondered. He wasn't sad. No, no, this feeling wasn't sad.

But 'happy' didn't seem to fit either.

He looked at Tina again, and felt the emotion pulling once more in his chest. For some reason, he was reminded of the kneazles pawing at the food bucket earlier, wanting their meal.

He felt that strange, emotional _pull_ in his chest again, more insistent this time, and once again found his eyes resting on Tina.

Slowly, realisation began to dawn on him.

' _Stop it, Newt_ ,' he told himself as he made himself stand up and walk to the door of the potting shed. _'You can't do this to yourself again.'_

However, that feeling in his chest seemed to protest at his actions, and Newt felt himself stop at the door to look back at the woman lying on the small bed he'd set up.

Tina…

Stubborn, clever, determined, protective, caring, passionate, beautiful, Tina…

Finally, a tear escaped his eyes to trail down his cheek.

' _You can't do this…_ ' he told himself.

' _Why not?'_ A voice answered.

"Good night, Tina," he whispered before leaving the potting shed, shutting the door firmly behind him and wishing he could shut a door on his heart so easily.

"Hello Dougal," Newt greeted in surprise as he discovered the demiguise waiting expectantly outside the shed. "What brings you here?"

Taking up the magizoologist's hand, Dougal led Newt over to his tree, where the demiguise's hammock hung from a branch.

Climbing up, Dougal swung into his hammock before pointing to another branch.

Newt smiled.

"Why thank you for the offer, Dougal," he told the creature. Waving his wand, Newt transfigured a second, larger, hammock to hang from the tree and climbed in. "Very kind of you to offer me a place to sleep, old boy," Newt tried to keep his voice light, but as he lay there, the sounds of his creatures and his case surrounding him like a familiar blanket, he couldn't shake the fact that he was now understanding what this feeling in his chest was.

He examined the feeling again, to make sure, and once more felt that strange _pull_ in his chest.

He remembered saving Tina from the death chamber at MACUSA, when he caught her after she jumped to safety.

Standing with her on a roof top as he asked her to take care of his creatures. Looking at her, wanting to say so much, but saying nothing before he jumped, determined to protect the obscurial from MACUSA and Graves.

Watching as she spoke to Credence in the subway tunnel, marvelling at how she could get through to him.

Saying goodbye to her before boarding the ship to England, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, unable to think of the words he wanted to say.

Seeing her in his potting shed, while at the Leaky Cauldron on her first night in London.

Walking her back to the Leaky Cauldron, along with Jacob and Queenie, and once more tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Watching Tina walk down the stairs on Christmas Eve, wearing her 'maid of honour' dress.

Seeing her revealed at his book promotion, and feeling so happy that she'd come to support him.

Then watching her run away after overhearing him tell Leta she was 'just an acquaintance from his travels.'

' _Stop it, Newt_ ,' he told himself, placing his hands over his face as if that would block out the memories in his mind.

' _Why are you doing this to yourself?_ ' he asked, feeling the pull of emotion in his chest turn into a painful _twist_.

He remembered Leta at school, pleading with him to help her after the creature she had been studying escaped and attacked a student.

He remembered wiping away her tears, offering to do anything he could to help her. _Anything_.

He remembered standing before Professor Dippet, taking the blame for Leta's mistake.

He remembered his father's yells, his mother's tears, and his brother's cutting remarks after he got expelled.

And he remembered Leta's silence.

Years and years of silence.

Until he saw her at his promotion.

" _I've missed you,"_ she'd said.

She said it hadn't been her fault. He'd been so relieved…

" _Speaking of moving on…"_ Leta had said.

Leta's dark eyes moved to spy something over his shoulder.

" _She appears to have thought otherwise."_

Newt slowly brought his hands away from his face.

Leta had known Tina was standing there, he realised. Leta had known she'd overhear him.

'But what does that prove?' He argued. 'She couldn't have known what I was going to say.'

His niffler discovered stolen, the kneazles frozen.

Tina accusing Leta of breaking into Newt's case.

' _No, Leta wouldn't_ ,' Newt stated as his chest gave another painful twist at the thought.

Newt shook himself mentally as he began to worry about his poor niffler. He'd never been gone this long, and while Newt knew his niffler was clever and resourceful, he still worried about the poor creature being hurt, or taken advantage of.

Not a single booby trap was triggered during the heist at Gringots, he reminded himself. Only a niffler could evade those kinds of traps…

' _Doesn't mean it was my niffler_ ,' Newt grit his teeth, as he felt tears filing his eyes again at the thought.

Leta wouldn't… Leta would never…

' _No proof_ ,' he reminded himself.

' _But there are connections,_ ' Tina's voice rang through his head.

Newt groaned as he covered his face again.

This was precisely why Newt preferred working with creatures, then people. People were complicated, their motives often hidden or convoluted…

Creatures were so much easier to understand.

Leta…

Newt felt his chest twist painfully, but still he tried to hold on to the good memory of her.

" _I've missed you."_

' _She was a taker,'_ he remembered Queenie's words from what seemed so long ago, in New York. ' _You need a giver._ '

Tina…

Newt felt his chest fill with an emotion he was beginning to understand, but still couldn't quite name.

" _But your life_ is _important to me."_

' _Stop making yourself suffer, Newt_ ,' he told himself firmly. ' _You're exhausted and this isn't helping. Leta wouldn't…Tina doesn't…Just: stop torturing yourself and try to sleep_.'

Newt wiped his face and took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

' _Just focus on breathing'_ , he told himself. In…out…in…out…

Eventually, Newt finally fell into a fitful slumber.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _I wanted to give Theseus and Tina a moment to work together, not only so Theseus could get a better idea of her observational skills as an auror, but also to see her regard for Newt without Newt being present._

 _As I think I mentioned previously, Johnny Depp appeared at Comic Con and much of the speech he gave in the memory scene was what he had said at Comic Con- so it does not belong to me._

 _I have an idea of what I want Grindlewald's next move to be, after all he needs to get the aurors off his tail, and there is a scene I've written for Newt and Tina that was one of the first scenes I wrote for this story, and I've been trying to find a place to put it. I think it should hopefully come up in the next chapter, unless my characters throw me another curve ball…_

 _I remembered that, while the people at the rally got out of there pretty quick, there were those further underground that Tina and Credence encountered who were likely unaware that the aurors were there or the ossuary was collapsing, until it was too late. So, I figured that the aurors would have discovered several people, all ready for interrogation._

 _And while writing that Grimson, and Skender had been among those found, as I figured they would be, I then realised: They were the ones that found Credence and discovered Patrick's dead body. Would they tell that to the aurors?_

 _Now, I remember Travers being the name of a Deatheater during Voldemort's time, so I figured there'd be a Travers now. And, doing some research, I learned that there will be a Torquil Travers featured in CoG, who works in the Magical Law Enforcement department. Apparently, Leta works for Torquil Travers in the movie, even though, in my story she works for Gringots. So, I thought I'd make a connection there, at least with names. No copywrite intended, I just like having connections when writing a story relating to an ongoing series, to give my stories a level of authenticity and cannon, wherever I can._

 _Now, many of you have been asking that I write more Newt and Tina scenes, and while I did have moments for them throughout my story, I realised they were all with other people around, and I had yet to write one with just them. And, while I had planned a scene for them coming up, I figured it may have more of an impact if they had a smaller scene together beforehand._

 _So, I had Tina helping Newt with his creatures, and Newt giving a quick lesson on how to examine a pregnant kneazle._

 _After hearing Newt's "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have investigating me," line from the first movie, I felt I really needed to give Tina a similar line here. And Newt, of course, being focused on his creatures, would not see any double meaning, or at least, understand the context in which it was meant, much like Tina had._

 _Remember, Tina still believes that Newt only sees her as a friend, and Newt has been trying to deny his growing feelings for Tina. However, for their final scene in this chapter, I wanted to try and show both of them opening up a little bit._

 _I can see Newt being a very introspective person, and he is also emotional, as much as he doesn't understand much of human interaction. So, when he starts to realise why he keeps focusing on Tina, I can see him sorting through his feelings, trying to figure out their source, and why he feels he should or shouldn't act on them._

 _I was watching a youtube video a while ago which I found really moving, focusing on Newt's thoughts and feelings regarding Tina and Leta, and I really inspired me for writing Newt's thoughts and memories while he was lying in the hammock. For while he does still love Leta, he has been hurt by her. He wants to see the good in Leta, but has been confronted with too many contradictions, and is finally starting to see the connections Tina, Theseus and even Queenie, have been pointing out to him._

 _And while his feelings for Tina are growing, he is terrified of being hurt again, so is less willing to act on his feelings. He wants to be sure, this time. Sure that his feelings are as real as he's starting to think and that Tina feels the same way._

 _If you want to see the video I watched, this is the link here, if you're interested:_

watch?v=F2xjEQy1cmE

 _It's called 'Newt and Tina: I will find you again.' Created by CaroFreeSpirit._

 _Please leave a review, I do love feedback._


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's note: Hello everybody! Thank you all so much for your reads and reviews. Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I'm pleased to inform you that I have now completed my story, and will be posting up one chapter every day. I wanted to finish these last chapters together before posting them, so as to ensure the continuity was there._

 _I was thinking of posting them all at once, but last time I did that, posting three chapters at once, I got feedback stating that one-at-a-time is preferred, so that's what I'm doing here._

 _So, I really hope you like them, and here is chapter 19! Author's note to follow, as always._

~..~..~..~..

Theseus felt himself still as he read the front page of The Daily Prophet that had just been delivered to him by a ministry owl.

 **Dementors Escape Azkaban** he read.

He threw the paper down onto the desk and wiped a hand worriedly down his face.

They had only received the news a couple of hours ago that there had been a loss of control at Azkaban, he mused. How did the reporters at the Prophet get the information so quickly?

Already, owls were flooding in, both into the French Ministry, and, he'd been told, to the British Ministry, and there were requests for Theseus to return to restore calm.

But he couldn't, he knew. He had to stay focused this time. He'd taken his eyes off Grindlewald before and it had cost him.

This was just a diversion the wizard was pulling, trying to distract them from their investigation.

It was a very good one, Theseus granted as he shrugged into his jacket. He'd had to split his team up further to try and handle this situation with the dementors, for, if they were loose in the countryside, there would be thousands of victims for them to choose from, magical and muggle alike.

The muggles were in even more danger, he knew, for they couldn't even see the soul-sucking wraiths.

Catching a glimpse of his reflection in a window caused Theseus to flinch slightly.

Theseus had barely slept and it was only due to magic that he didn't look as if he'd been sleeping on a park bench somewhere.

He'd been sleeping at a desk though, he granted, so maybe that was close enough.

Rubbing his eyes, Theseus could tell he was not thinking straight. And as well as dealing with the dementors, he still has to do several interrogations this morning, starting with Leta Lestrange.

Theseus sighed as he recalled his interrogation of Travers the previous night. The man had confessed readily that he'd been tasked with managing the financial aspects of Grindlewald's campaign. Apparently, Grindlewald was a man who preferred to win people over with charm and payment rather than fear. And Theseus knew that money was always a good incentive.

"But I'm just a glorified book-keeper," Travers had insisted. "I was simply tasked to pay the bounty hunter when he brought the obscurial in, once his identity had been verified."

"Where did you get the gold from?" Theseus had pressed. "Was it you or your brother who robbed Gringots?"

"No, not Torquil, he's completely innocent, I swear," Drefan had insisted. "I… was never actually told who got the gold from Gringots. Grindlewald was careful not to mention the names of others, unless it was necessary."

"So, you can't hand each other in," Theseus had nodded his understanding.

The man had been sent back to the British Ministry for a trial, pending further investigation, but with the dementors now free from Azkaban, Theseus doubted Drefan Travers would see the inside of a prison cell.

Still, Theseus rubbed his eyes again as he tried to get his brain to refocus: he had Leta to interrogate this morning, among others, and he still needed to speak with Delacroix, regarding her interrogation of Grimson.

Sighing, he made to move towards the door, only to have his eyes travel to where his brother's case lay in one corner of the office he'd been given.

Newt had slept in his case, he recalled, and Theseus wondered whether a wiser option would have been to ask his brother if he could share the space. Would've been more comfortable than a desk, surely.

Theseus rubbed at the crick in his neck, trying to relax the tense muscles there.

Pausing, Theseus made a decision, and walked over to the case.

Opening it, he carefully climbed down to find an empty cot in Newt's potting shed. Figuring this meant his brother was feeding his creatures, he moved out into the main enclosure. He'd never really had a good look over Christmas, but as doxys and fwoopers fluttered around him, Theseus couldn't help but marvel at his brother's portable zoo.

He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised though, Theseus admitted as he searched for his little brother, for Newt had always been proficient at anything remotely related to caring for creatures.

However, he was surprised to happen upon Tina Goldstein surrounded by kneazles as she fed them their morning meal. The cat-like creatures were rubbing against her, purring as she sat amongst them.

"Miss Goldstein," Theseus called, gaining the woman's attention.

"Good morning, Auror Scamander," Tina greeted, getting to her feet rather awkwardly.

"When did you get here?" Theseus asked, curious, although he already had his suspicions.

"Oh, well," Tina stammered, "I helped Newt take care of his creatures last night, and… I think I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up this morning in the potting shed," she confessed slowly.

Theseus raised his eyebrows.

"And my brother slept…?" He prompted.

"I slept in a hammock in Dougal's tree," a voice piped up and Theseus turned to see Newt approaching quickly.

Theseus made a non-comital sound at the back of his throat. This was the most compromising situation he'd ever found his brother in, yet while Theseus could tell it had been perfectly innocent, he had to admit that he was both relieved and slightly disappointed at that.

"Mother will be pleased to hear you acted the gentleman, Newt," he told his little brother, causing him to bend down to check over a pregnant kneazle in an effort to avoid looking at anyone.

"What brings you here, Theseus?" Newt asked flatly.

"I'm heading down to the interrogation rooms," he told Newt, gesturing to the cat-like creature in his hands. "If we could have your attendance, along with a kneazle to act as lie detector, it would be much appreciated."

"Certainly," Newt said straightening up. "I'll bring Hoppy along."

In moments, the kneazle in question trotted up to Newt to sit regally at his feet, as if she heard her name and was preparing to go to work.

"If you lead the way, Theseus," Newt continued, "Tina and I will follow you."

Theseus paused.

"I'm sorry," he counted, glancing at the woman before turning back to his brother. "I don't recall inviting Tina along."

"You didn't," Newt countered. "I did. She's more qualified than I am for an interrogation."

"Newt," Theseus tried to keep his patience as his sleep deprived brain rankled at the lack of respect for propriety. "I invited you, as your kneazle can help us get the truth, and you're the only one who can really interpret the creature's behaviour. But Miss Goldstein is no longer an auror. She's now a civilian aiding in our investigation, so she cannot be present at an interrogation unless she's needed as a witness to testify, and she'd not needed yet."

He turned to Tina apologetically.

"No offence intended, Miss Goldstein," he added, seeing the disappointment in her expression.

"It's alright Auror Scamander," Tina granted automatically. "I understand protocols."

"Well, I don't," Newt spoke up.

"Let's just go up," Theseus cut his brother off before they began arguing again, for he was in no mood for it. "I'm sure there is another way Tina can be helpful today."

Turning, Theseus led the way to the potting shed and up the ladder.

~..~..~..~..

Credence was deep in thought as he finished helping Jacob pull the last of the scones out of the oven and placed them on the bench to cool. Jacob's bakery was nearly ready to open in the New Year, and, thanks to the recipe book Newt had given him, the baker felt they were ready to serve the British public in a couple of days.

But Credence's mind was focusing on the events of last night. He hadn't slept much, but as he remembered how his obscurus helped him escape the cell, and broke through the ceiling of the amphitheatre, he began to wonder at how much control he actually had over his obscurus now.

Was the magical parasite still killing him? And if he was still dying, how much time did he have?

Credence swallowed. He didn't want to die. There may have been a time when he felt death would be a relief, but now…There was still so much he wanted to learn. He had friends now, that he didn't want to lose.

And he had Willow.

And why was he like this anyway? He wondered, gritting his teeth. He hadn't had time to do any more research into who his family could possibly be.

His mother, he knew, must have been a witch.

But who was she? And what about his father?

If he was dying, he thought, at the rate he was going with his research, he doubted he'd find out who his birth family was in time.

Credence swallowed as something close to desperation filled his chest.

 _Who was he?_

"Credence?"

The man started as he turned to see Jacob staring at him in concern as he wiped his hands on a tea towel.

"You've been staring at the same spot on that bench for five minutes," the baker told him. "You alright, pal?"

Credence took a deep breath as he considered.

"I want to go to Paris," he stated slowly.

"We just got you back from Paris," Jacob told him flatly, uncomprehending. "Why do you want to go back?"

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Honey?" Queenie asked as she entered the room from upstairs.

Credence nodded.

' _If I don't do this, I might die, knowing nothing about myself.'_

Queenie nodded in understanding, having heard the resolve in his head.

Jacob, on the other hand, was moving his eyes from his wife to Credence, trying to connect the dots.

"Can someone explain, please?" He asked.

"Credence wants to go to Paris to make a deal with the aurors," Queenie explained.

Jacob raised his eyebrows.

"I'm afraid to ask," he mumbled before turning to Credence. "Are you sure you wanna do this, buddy?" He asked seriously. "Grindlewald could find you easier if you go to Paris."

"I'm probably dying already," Credence reminded the man. "If I'm going to die, I want to know where I came from. I want information."

"And the wizard law enforcement has access to more than just the school library," Jacob nodded his dawning comprehension. "Well," he clapped his flour-covered hands together, "we can't let you go on your own." He smiled, turning to his wife.

"Fancy a honeymoon in Paris, Queenie?"

The woman smiled brightly.

"You read my mind, Sweetheart."

~..~..~..~..

Graves exited his office moments after Theseus opened his own door, and the British wizard was momentarily dumfounded by how Graves managed to look alert and professional, despite the fact that he knew the American auror had had about as little sleep as himself.

"Morning Scamander," Graves nodded formally, gesturing along the hallway that was already beginning to fill with people hurrying about their work. "Off to interrogation, are we?"

"We've got the first of our 'people of interest' arriving this morning," Theseus nodded as he led the way, Newt and Tina following in behind them. "I've asked Newt to bring a kneazle along, as the creatures' ability to sense deceit may come in useful."

"Interesting idea," Graves granted, glancing at the creature trotting alongside the magizoologist.

"And Miss Goldstein?" Graves prompted as they approached the stairs.

"I'm willing to help in any way I can, Mr Graves, Sir," Tina spoke up.

"You're not an auror anymore, Goldstein," Graves reminded her. "I like the dedication though."

"Then why don't you simply give Tina her job back?" Newt asked.

Graves stopped walking and Tina narrowly avoided colliding with the man as he regarded Newt evenly.

"I'm not sure how things work in Britain, Mr Scamander," Graves began, glancing at Theseus before returning his gaze onto Newt. "But protocols in America mean that it's not so simple."

Newt was actually meeting Graves' eyes for a change.

"Oh, yes, I forgot," the magizoologist recalled. "These are the same protocols that allow someone to be put to death without a trial, yes?"

"Newt," Theseus cautioned as Graces' jaw clenched.

"I'm sorry, again, for you having to go through that, Mr Scamander," Graves granted. "However, that decision was not made by me. I would do a proper investigation."

"But it was still able to be done," Newt pressed.

"Now isn't the time, Newt," Theseus reprimanded. "We have a job to do, and if we don't find-"

"Credence!" Tina exclaimed in shock, causing their group to turn.

Sure enough, Queenie was leading Jacob and Credence through the foyer of the French Ministry, looking around urgently.

Tina quickly hurried down the stairs to greet her sister with a hug.

"How did you know how to get here?" She asked as she then moved to hug Credence and her brother in law.

"Well, Credence told us the French Ministry was in the Sainte-Chapel," Queenie began, "Then, all I had to do was follow the minds of the people around the area. I don't speak French, but there were enough of the MACUSA and British Ministry wizards around. Then I just had to locate your mind once inside," she smiled brightly.

Hoppy greeted Credence with a chirp-like meow, rubbing against his legs fondly. Smiling slightly, Credence knelt down to stroke the kneazle's soft fur.

"And what brings you here this morning, Mrs Kowalski?" Theseus asked as he, Graves and Newt caught up.

Queenie simply looked at Credence, who stopped stroking Hoppy, and tried to stand as tall as he could as the attention moved to him.

"I want to make a deal," he announced quietly.

"What?" Tina asked flatly as Newt's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What kind of a deal?" Graves asked.

Credence swallowed.

"As far as I know, this thing," Credence touched his chest, where he could feel his obscurus swirling slowly, "is still killing me. There are I few things I want to know before I die, but I don't know how to find them out. Your Ministry," he continued, his dark eyes travelling from Graves to Theseus slowly, "can access information and history far better than I can. If you help me," he concluded, "I will help you find Grindlewald."

"Credence," Tina was quick to place a hand on the man's shoulder, "There are other ways to get answers."

"If you're looking for a cure, Credence," Theseus spoke up, "I'm not sure if-"

"I'm not looking for a cure," the younger man cut him off.

"Then what, exactly, is it you want from us, Mr Barebone?" Graves asked.

"I want to find out who my birth mother is," Credence answered slowly. "I want to find out what happened to her that made me-" he swallowed as his throat tightened. "I want to know who I am, before I die," he admitted, slowly.

Graves regarded the young man before him warily. He had seen this man cause extensive damage to an ancient site, only to repair it just as easily. Something even a dozen aurors would have struggled with.

And a little boy less than half this man's age had completely destroyed a hospital when provoked… What could this obscurial do?

Theseus studied Credence carefully. This was the man Grindlewald wanted badly, to act as a 'lightning rod' to bring wizards to his cause and help overthrow the current order.

At least, if Credence were close by, they wouldn't have to worry whether Grindlewald had succeeded…

And, from what Tina and Newt had told him of the boy's past, it was understandable that Credence would want answers…

"Perhaps we can come to an agreement," Theseus granted carefully, turning to Graves. "But we need to discuss the terms of this thoroughly before we ask Credence to do anything."

Graves paused to consider a moment, before nodding as he regarded Credence, wary but intrigued.

"Credence," Newt stepped forward to gain the young man's attention as Tina placed a concerned hand on his shoulder once more.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Credence regarded two of the few people who had shown him more compassion than anyone in his memory.

"Yes," he answered firmly. "I need answers."

"I'll inform Delacroix," Graves gestured Credence to follow him. "You and your brother go ahead to the interrogation rooms," he told Theseus. "Miss Goldstein," Graves added, "why don't you and your family explore Paris? We'll contact you if you're needed."

Tina clenched her jaw.

"If I can't help with the interrogation," Tina began, "then I'd rather stay with Credence. He is my charge."

"And he's of age, and so doesn't need the supervision of a guardian," Graves countered.

Hoppy batted at the hem of Graves' coat lightly with a paw.

Credence frowned.

"I have another condition," he spoke up quickly. "Tina gets her job back."

"That is in the hands of Madame Piquery," Graves stated firmly, but paused upon the determined look on Credence's face.

"I'll send her an owl," he granted. "But that's all I can do."

Hoppy meowed but only Newt seemed to be paying attention to her.

"You have the power to fire Tina, but not give her job back?" Newt queried Graves, incredulous. "What exactly are these protocols, Mr Graves?"

"Classified," Graves insisted firmly. "In the meantime, Miss Goldstein, enjoy Paris. But, be careful," he added seriously. "With the current dementor situation, we need to be on our guard."

Tina quickly pulled Credence in for another hug.

"If you don't feel comfortable with something they ask you to do, you're allowed to say 'no,' okay?" she whispered urgently in his ear. "Make sure it's on _your_ terms."

"What dementor situation?" Queenie asked as Credence was led away, casting glances back at Tina.

"Why don't we get breakfast, and I'll get you both caught up?" Tina suggested, trying to think of something to take away the worry gnawing at her stomach at the idea of Credence being with Graves without Newt, Queenie, Jacob or herself in the room.

Looking over her shoulder, she caught Newt's eyes and knew her concerned expression matched his.

~..~..~..~..

Credence followed Graves warily through the corridors of the French Ministry.

' _This is the real Mr Graves,'_ he reminded himself as he felt his obscurus writhe in his chest.

"Mr Graves," he began hesitantly, only to be cut off.

"Not yet," Graves told him before leading the young man to the office assigned to him.

"Have a seat…Credence," Graves gestured to a chair, but Credence decided to ignore it, choosing to stand, regarding Graves warily.

Graves appeared to be doing the same as he almost seemed to circle the young man standing in the middle of the room.

The silence seemed to stretch for eternity, though it was probably only a matter of seconds.

"First of all, Credence, I feel I should apologise," Mr Graves began hesitantly, avoiding the man's eyes as he moved to stand behind his desk.

"For what?" Credence asked.

"For whatever Grindlewald did to you whilst wearing my face," Graves replied, raising his eyes slowly. "What did he do?"

Credence swallowed.

"He lied," he answered simply. "He made me think I was special, when everyone else thought I was a freak."

"Well, you certainly are special, Credence," Graves granted warily. "To my knowledge, no obscurial has ever reached adulthood. However," he continued, "after all you've said and done, not wanting to have anything to do with this investigation, why have you suddenly decided to assist us?"

"Why does anyone make a deal?" Credence put forward. "I need something from you. And you need something from me. And when two people want what the other has, a deal can always be struck."

Graves raised his eyebrows.

"So, in exchange for information regarding your birth mother and the circumstances of your birth and adoption, you agree to aid us in hunting down Grindlewald," Graves surmised. "How do you plan on helping us?"

"Do you agree to help me, Mr Graves?" Credence pressed. "You're the one who can access most of the information I need. I was born in America, after all."

Graves regarded Credence carefully.

"And if I can't?" He prompted.

There was an ominous rumbling sound as Credence clenched his fists before every piece of furniture in the room was reduced to nothing but dust and woodchips.

Coughing slightly, Graves felt his heartrate increase as dust drifted through the air like dry snow as he moved to draw his wand.

Credence remained standing in the centre of the room. He hadn't used a wand to destroy the furniture. He'd barely even moved his hands.

"You'll kill me?" Graves supplied.

"No, that was just me venting," Credence explained calmly. "Sorry. My obscurus is linked to my emotions, apparently. I need to release magic if it gets too much, or my obscurus lashes out. I didn't want to kill you."

Credence drew his own wand, and Graves was halfway through a defensive spell before he realised Credence was simply repairing the damage he'd done.

Now, Graves was really dumbstruck. He was a highly powerful wizard himself, but even he would have struggled to restore something that had been completely disintegrated, let alone an entire roomful of office furniture.

Credence was indeed very powerful…

"Grindlewald says that I'll never be accepted by anyone, even within the wizarding world," Credence continued, thinking his display of power may not have helped motivate Graves to assist him.

What would Newt say? He mused, trying to think of the right words.

"People have abused me my entire life," Credence explained. "And look what it's done to me," he held out his arms, and Graves noticed black vapour emanating from him.

"This is what fear and loathing does, Mr Graves," Credence told the man, and, following his gaze, it was only then Graves realised he still had his wand raised defensively.

Cautiously, Graves lowered his wand. Considering further, he carefully placed it on the ground slowly before raising his hands placatingly as he straightened up.

The black vapour disappeared and Graves let out a breath.

"I am still dying," Credence reminded Graves, his voice tight. "And less than two months ago, I realised that everything I was raised to believe is a lie. Now I'm free, and I want the truth. And you are going to help me. And get Tina her job back. In return," he continued, "I will help you find Grindlewald. Do we have a deal, Mr Graves?"

Graves regarded Credence warily.

"Anything more?" He asked.

Credence swallowed, and suddenly the memory of the New York subway surged into his mind.

"I want… _immunity_ ," he stated. "I really don't want to go to prison. Or to be killed by aurors."

Graves let out a breath.

"Well," he considered. "I can't speak for Delacroix or Scamander, but I, for one, would rather have you on my side." The auror nodded. "I will help you, Credence, in exchange for your help."

"And Tina?" He pressed.

"And Tina," Graves nodded after a moment.

' _Though there were no guarantees on that count.'_ He reminded himself. _'She's already lost her job twice.'_

Though he didn't want to tell Credence that, in case it caused him to 'vent' again.

Credence breathed a sigh of relief and Graves felt it was now safe enough to reclaim his wand from the floor.

"And just how, exactly, do you plan on helping us locate Grindlewald?" Graves prompted.

Credence swallowed.

"Grindlewald gave me a necklace," he began. "It had a gold symbol on it. He said that all I would have to do is touch the symbol and he would come to me."

Graves' attention snapped up to Credence's face eagerly.

"Do you still have it?" He asked.

"No," Credence admitted. "I was afraid of accidently drawing him to me, so I gave it to Professor Dumbledore." Credence studied the auror in confusion. "He didn't give it to you?"

Graves eyes seemed to harden.

"No," he answered softly. "He didn't."

Graves felt himself grip his newly reconstructed chair tightly.

"I believe I need to pay another visit to the good Professor."

~..~..~..~..

Newt trailed behind his brother as they made their way downstairs to the interrogation rooms.

He was concerned at this move by Credence, he had to admit, and it had certainly taken him by surprise.

Credence had never voiced any desire previously to take part in the hunt for Grindlewald, yet here he was, offering his services.

In exchange for help finding his birth family, Newt reminded himself.

Newt knew Credence had been searching the Hogwarts library, scouring old newspapers for hints as to who his family could be.

He wanted to know who he was, and perhaps, he felt the aurors at MACUSA could access the information he couldn't.

Newt figured this reasoning was likely correct, but still: why would Credence agree to place himself in danger like this?

He still had his obscurus, he reminded himself. And perhaps, the greater control Credence was gaining didn't necessarily mean the parasitical force was having any less of an impact. In fact, it could mean the obscurus was growing more powerful, and Credence's life was ticking away faster with each passing moment.

Newt had no idea, and the worry gnawed at his stomach. No obscurial had ever survived to adulthood before, so there was no way of knowing if there even was a possibility of recovery or a cure.

And that simple fact could be the reason Credence has suddenly decided to take part, he surmised. Credence had more or less said as much: he wanted to know who he was before he died. And if that meant the only way he could do so was by striking a deal…

"Don't do it, Theseus," Newt pleaded to his brother. "Please?"

"Do what?" Theseus asked over his shoulder.

"Let Credence take part in the investigation," Newt explained. "By all means, help him find who his birth family is, but I beg you: don't let him near Grindlewald."

"Credence offered to help," Theseus countered.

"Because he thinks that's the only way to get what he wants," Newt insisted. "But really, would it be so difficult for you to find the records he needs?"

"From the MACUSA archives?" Theseus asked flatly. "The ones I don't have access to?"

Newt let out an exasperated breath.

"Bloody red tape and paperwork," he muttered under his breath.

"Yes, it's a pain in the proverbial," Theseus granted, "and we'll deal with it when we talk it over with Delacroix and Graves later. But for now, we have people to interrogate."

Theseus opened a door and entered, Newt following numbly, only looking up when the door closed behind him.

Newt froze in shock upon spying the person who was seated, waiting for them.

" _Leta?"_

~..~..~..~..

It was a dreary day in Paris as dark clouds filled the sky and Tina pulled her coat tighter around her against the chilly winter air, thinking the weather fit her mood perfectly.

"Let's get out of the cold, shall we?" Queenie suggested, leading them into a small café, where Tina, who did speak a little French, ordered breakfast for each of them.

"So, what are dementors?" Jacob asked warily, getting the feeling he wasn't going to like the answer.

"They're wraith-like beings," Tina began slowly. "Truly horrible creatures, really. They guard the prison, Azkaban, and have the ability to feed on all your happy memories, draining you completely until you are left with only your worst thoughts and feelings."

Tina met her sister's eyes seriously.

"Grindlewald set them free," she informed her.

Queenie took up her husband's hand worriedly. Jacob swallowed, appearing a little shell shocked.

"I'm worried about Credence," Tina changed the subject, quickly, leaning forward. "Why did you agree to bring him here?"

"It was what he wanted, Tina," Queenie insisted. "I wish you could see all the thoughts and memories in his head. He's still figuring out who he is, and he wants to know where he comes from. You can understand that, surely?"

Tina rubbed her eyes as a waiter brought their food and coffee to their table.

" _Merc_ _Í_ ," she said distractedly, thinking.

"And then Graves sent Newt and I away while he took Credence with him," Tina mumbled.

"Don't have such a high opinion of Graves anymore, huh?" Queenie observed, watching her sister carefully. "I admit, I'm still struggling to read him. His occlumency is very good." The woman frowned.

"What?" Tina asked urgently. "Do you think Graves will try to lock Credence up?"

"Not sure," Queenie admitted slowly. "But I can't if he'll actually help Credence, either."

"Yeah," Jacob spoke up sombrely. "Maybe he thinks that he can get Credence to help him, and Credence will die from the obscurus before he has to do anything in return?"

Tina clenched her jaw.

"Mr Graves is very focused," she granted, "but I don't think he'd be so callous as that. He wants to catch Grindlewald, and if he feels making a deal with Credence could help him do that, he will."

Still, the worry in her stomach seemed to grow.

~..~..~..~..

"Hello Newt," Leta appeared surprised to see him as they walked in.

"What's going on?" Newt hissed at his brother. "I told you, Leta has nothing to do with anything."

Theseus made no comment as he took a seat at the table where Leta sat.

Hoppy peered around Newt's legs to spy the human woman in the room, and her ears went back in recognition.

"Theseus," Leta greeted measuredly. "Can you pleas _e_ tell me why have I been brought here? Have I done something wrong?"

"I certainly hope not, Leta," Theseus began. "I would like to make it clear that you are not under arrest. We have simply found some new information regarding our investigation, and would like you to help clarify things."

"Oh," Leta nodded with composure. "I'll certainly do what I can."

A hiss sounded.

Newt looked down to spy his kneazle, Hoppy, eying Leta with distrust as she pressed herself against his leg.

"That's one of your kneazles, right Newt?" Leta asked, seeming curious. "You showed them at your book promotion."

"Yes," Newt watched as Hoppy's fur began to stand on end, hissing again as she regarded the woman before her.

Credence said his kneazles had been spelled frozen mid hiss, after someone had broken into his case and stolen his niffler.

"Why would my kneazle be hissing at you, Leta?" Newt asked slowly.

Leta appeared affronted.

"What?" She asked. "You think that because a kneazle doesn't like me, that automatically means I'm guilty of something?"

"I'm not saying that," Newt put forward quickly, although, for the first time, doubt was creeping into his mind.

"Though _you_ just did, Leta," Theseus said.

"Excuse me?"

"The reason I called you here, Leta," Theseus began, "is because we found Grindlewald addressing a hall full of his followers last night, which included your parents."

"Just because my parents support Grindlewald doesn't mean I do," Leta defended.

"That's interesting. Because the reason we found the rally," Theseus continued, "is because we followed _your_ trail. Meaning: that you had to have been there at some point."

Theseus leaned forward.

"What business would you have with Grindlewald, Miss Lestrange?"

"Nothing," Leta answered coolly. "I've been working, trying to find out who got past my security and robbed Gringots."

Hoppy growled.

'Lie,' Newt noted, his concern growing.

 _Leta wouldn't…_ he told himself.

"Interesting," Theseus commented, trying a different angle. "That one of Newt's nifflers goes missing on the very night a treasure trove gets stolen from Gringots bank, isn't it? And as I recall you're pretty good with magical creatures, yourself, Leta."

The woman regarded Theseus, her expression carefully blank.

"Do you think I had something to do with the robbery?" Leta asked. "I'm part of the team in charge of security."

"Meaning you know every weak point in it," Theseus countered.

"Theseus-" Newt objected.

"Quiet, Newt," his brother ordered.

"I had nothing to do with any of this," Leta insisted. "My hands are clean."

This time, Hoppy let out a yowl, her ears pinned flat to her head, drawing the attention of the three people in the room.

"Kneazles can sense deceit, correct Newt?" Theseus asked slowly.

"Yes," the magizoologist admitted reluctantly. "But they can't always pinpoint it."

Newt swallowed as he knelt down.

"Hoppy," Newt drew the kneazle's attention. "What is it?"

The clever creature trotted towards Leta, who backed away.

"Don't," Newt's voice was quiet, but still held warning.

Hoppy moved until she was beside Leta, before standing on her hind legs and pawing at the handbag on the woman's arm.

"Hey," the woman snatched her bag away from the inquisitive kneazle.

"What's in your bag, Leta?" Newt asked, fearing the answer.

"Nothing," Leta objected.

Suddenly, Hoppy jumped up at Leta's bag, sinking all four sets of claws into the material.

"Don't hurt her, Leta!" Newt cried out as the woman tried to get the creature off.

Hoppy succeeded in removing Leta's bag from her shoulder and it dropped onto the ground, where Theseus quickly summoned it to his hand.

"That's mine," Leta held out a hand.

"Why is it spelled shut?" Theseus asked. Waving his wand, he removed the spell.

The bag wriggled and he dropped it onto the table in surprise before a small, furry, long snouted creature burst out, finally free of his makeshift cage.

Silence filled the room and Newt felt his body slump slightly in shock.

 _No…_

"It was you who took my niffler," Newt stated slowly, eyes traveling up to view Leta.

Leta appeared as if she wanted to defend herself, but seeing the betrayal on Newt's face seemed to take the fire out of her eyes.

"You broke into my case and stole my niffler," Newt stated again, numbly.

"I'm sorry. You were always too good, Newt," she told him dejectedly. "You've never met a monster you couldn't love."

Newt simply stared.

He'd fallen for her deception again. After all he'd told himself…

"Why would someone steal a niffler, Newt?" Theseus asked him carefully, eyes on Leta. He needed more to qualify this as a confession.

"Nifflers are treasure hunters," Newt answered automatically.

"Like the treasure held in say, Gringots bank?" Theseus put forward.

Swallowing, Newt nodded, gathering his niffler close to his chest, as if to protect it from being taken again.

"Newt," Leta pleaded as she stepped forward. "I'm sorry. But please know: If I could have done it another way, I would have. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Really?" Newt asked, feeling the pain twisting in his chest. It was even worse than last time. Because this time, he felt he'd been more careful.

"Well I, for one, am looking forward to hearing this story," Theseus opened the interrogation room door and gestured to a couple of his aurors, who stepped inside.

"Miss Lestrange, you are now officially under arrest for theft and conspiracy," he ordered, claiming Leta's wand.

"No, wait," Leta pleaded as Newt shrank back against the wall, holding his niffler to his chest as Picket climbed from his pocket, onto his shoulder, to place a twiggy hand on his cheek, consolingly.

"You're not going to say anything, Newt?" Leta demanded as the two aurors grabbed her arms. " _Help me_."

Newt held his niffler close as he shook his head slowly, throat clenched and eyes firmly on the floor, avoiding her eyes.

"Not this time, Leta," he told her as a tear escaped to trail down his cheek. He wiped it away before opening his case to place his niffler inside where it belonged.

The woman's dark eyes widened.

"What?"

Theseus placed a hand on Newt's shoulder as Leta was being escorted out, beseeching his brother.

"So, this is how you treat your friends, Newt?" The woman demanded. "I thought I meant more to you than this. So much for Hufflepuff loyalty!"

"Loyalty?" Newt echoed, snapping his case shut and stepping forward to confront Leta causing the two aurors holding her to pause.

"Loyalty?" He repeated, and Theseus could hear a mixture of hurt and anger in his brother's voice.

"I took the blame for your experiment at school, Leta," Newt reminded the woman firmly, his eyes burning with a mixture of betrayal, anger, shame and disappointment. " _I_ got expelled, because I didn't want _you_ to be."

Theseus felt his jaw drop.

All these years, Newt had never said…

"And now, when my friends, my _real friends_ ," he qualified, making sure he had the woman's attention, "were trying to tell me that you had broken into my case, stolen one of my creatures, that you were responsible for robbing Gringots and supporting Grindlewald…I _defended_ you." Newt shook his head at his own foolishness, guilt written on his face.

"I've always seen the good in you, Leta," he told the woman quietly. "I wanted to see it so much, that it blinded me to everything else." He swallowed. "Well, you may not have changed, but I have. So, no," he shook his head as he backed away, "I'm not helping you, this time. There're only so many times a person can take betrayal."

As Newt turned, allowing the aurors to continue escorting a speechless Leta away, Newt caught sight of his brother, and winced, as Theseus obviously would've heard his whole tirade.

Newt let out a breath, raising his eyes to the ceiling as his brother came forward, swallowing as he fought to keep control. He'd forgotten his brother was even there.

"Newt," Theseus began, but his younger brother shook him off.

"Not now, Theseus, please," Newt begged. But his big brother gripped his shoulder tightly, forcing Newt to look at him.

"It was her?" He asked. "You took the blame for her, at school?"

Newt nodded and Theseus let out a long breath.

"You never said-"

"Of course not," Newt spoke up bitterly. "That would have defeated the whole purpose."

"And now…" Theseus trailed off quietly and Newt rolled his eyes as his own stupidity.

"They say 'love is blind,'" Theseus tried a joke, but failed miserably.

"Most don't help to endanger the wizarding world in the process," Newt muttered.

"She stole from you," his big brother told him firmly. "Don't take responsibility for what she did… Again." He added.

"Yes, well," Newt shrugged, trying to make light of it. "What's done is done."

"Newt," Theseus reached out to prevent his brother turning to leave.

"I'm so sorry, little brother," he told him.

Newt swallowed, closing his eyes.

"Do you need me to make a statement, or anything? As evidence?" He asked.

"Yes, we will need a statement," Theseus admitted, seeing Newt didn't feel like talking to him now. "She used your creature, after all," he gestured to the case in Newt's hands. "But, if you'd rather come in at a later time-"

"Yes please," his little brother stammered. "And I'm sorry, but you'll have to continue with the other interrogations on your own, Theseus. I…I have to go find Tina. To apologise," he added quickly at the expression on his brother's face. "She's the one who tried to warn me about Leta, in the first place."

"She's a smart woman," Theseus nodded. "A good auror. She's got good instincts about people." He smiled. "Wish she were on my team."

"Do you know where she is?" Newt asked, and Theseus detected a note of hopeful determination in his younger brother's voice.

"No," he admitted slowly. "But, maybe she took her sister out to breakfast in Paris?"

"I'll use Hoppy to help find her," Newt muttered before striding out the door.

"Newt," Leta pleaded as he passed her in the corridor.

"Don't," Newt muttered, hurrying by without even glancing in her direction, Hoppy trotting after him.

Letting out a breath, Theseus' expression turned grim as he stepped out of the room as Leta was being handcuffed.

"Take her to the Ministry of Magic, I'll conduct a proper interrogation later," he ordered brusquely, causing the woman to turn to him. "We have a conspirator of Grindlewald in our midst, and we need as much information as possible." He met the woman's dark eyes coldly.

"As the Head of the British Auror department, I must take charge of any connection to a possible terrorist threat to our society." He smiled as the woman's eyes grew wide. "So, I will be dealing with you, personally, Miss Lestrange."

~..~..~..~..

"Dumbledore!"

Albus looked up from his desk as Graves stormed in, Batini and Credence following.

"Someone to see you, Albus," Batini announced lightly, having escorted the pair from the school gate.

"Mr Graves, welcome back," Dumbledore greeted as he stood up. "And I see you're no longer hiding, Credence. I'm glad."

"Enough of the pleasantries, Professor," Graves told him. "Credence has agreed to help us find Grindlewald. And he has informed us that he had a useful object that is now in your possession. A necklace?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Credence gave the pendant to me for safe keeping."

"And you didn't think such an item would be useful to us?" Graves prompted.

"I've been trying to determine the kind of spells used on it, and whether Grindlewald could alter it, or if, indeed, it is still active." Dumbledore defended himself lightly.

"Where is it?" Graves demanded.

Cautiously, Dumbledore waved his wand and a small box came flying out of his office to land smoothly on his classroom desk.

"Whatever you do, don't touch it," he informed Graves. "You'll surely let Grindlewald know."

Using his wand, Dumbledore opened the box and levitated the necklace into the air to hover before them.

"And what have you found out about this?" Graves pressed, his dark eyes studying the symbol hanging on the black cord.

Dumbledore regarded Graves calmly.

"It's mainly a protean charm, with a tracking spell attached to the pendant," Dumbledore answered. "Simple enough: Grindlewald likely has a twin in his possession. When someone touches the symbol," he continued, "it likely affects his own, and then Grindlewald can simply apparate within a short distance of this pendant."

"Is there any way to reverse it?" Graves asked. "To allow us to go to him?"

"Any change you make to this pendant will likely be felt by the twin he has," Dumbledore informed Graves. "So, unless you want Grindlewald to know that you've found this, I suggest you leave it be."

Eying the necklace again, Graves frowned.

"Is there any significance to this symbol?" He asked curiously.

"Unlikely," Dumbledore answered quickly. "Afterall, he wouldn't want to give away something that was precious to him, would he?"

Graves made a non-comital sound, nevertheless planning to ask someone to find out what this symbol meant. Any information they could get about Grindlewald's mindset, or ambitions would give them a greater advantage.

Waving a hand, Graves returned the necklace to the box and carefully placed the lid over it.

"Thank you for your co-operation, Professor Dumbledore," Graves told him as he picked the box up. "This pendant could definitely give us a method of capturing Grindlewald, especially with your help Credence," Graves told the man at his side. "This," he mused, "could be just what we need to set a trap."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _Okay, I really felt Credence would finally decide to try to make a deal with the aurors here, as he understands that an obscurus usually kills its host, and he wants to find out about his birth family. Being the determined Slytherin that he is, I thought he'd figure a deal would be the best option._

 _And yes, I checked my previous chapters, Credence did indeed hear Newt tell Tina the French Ministry was in the Sainte-Chapel, so he did know where to go. I imagine Queenie made a port key herself to get them there._

 _I thought Newt learning about the truth through a creature would be the best way for him to finally accept the person Leta truly is and how she has used him. He hasn't listened to the people around him, despite his own suspicions, and so I thought seeing a kneazle's reaction to her would be the way he would finally accept the truth._

 _I also wanted Theseus to hear Newt's tirade to Leta, so that the elder brother can finally know the truth and, hopefully, some family rifts can start to heal._

 _I also wanted to show Graves' slightly devious side a bit, here, as I imagine he would be the type of person to want to get the advantage, and so wanted to be the first to speak with Credence, despite agreeing to include the other HODs._

 _I couldn't resist having Credence give a show of his power, though, just so Graves would be left slightly unsettled. For, while Credence was trying to think of what Newt would do, I imagine, him being a Slytherin, he'd see the value in showing Graves that he is not the most powerful wizard in the room, which is probably not a feeling Graves is used to, powerful as he is._

 _Was it too much?_

 _As for the pendant, I'm willing to bet we'll see more of it in the movie, but I'm under the impression there are, in fact, two Deathly Hallows necklaces. I remember both Dumbledore and Grindlewald were believers of their existence, and were searching for them. So, I'd imagine they'd each have one._

 _And I recalled how the DA used the gold galleons Hermione made, and there had to be another, to feel the change. So, I thought: how would Grindlewald know someone was touching the pendant, if he didn't have one as well?_

 _So, I'm guessing that Dumbledore possibly returned his necklace to Grindlewald once they parted ways, and was hoping to keep it hidden once it was returned to him. Partly because he didn't want anyone connecting him to Grindlewal's campaign, and partly because part of him possibly hoped to be able to see Gellert again._

 _I think that's it for now._

 _Please leave a review!_


	20. Chapter 20

_Author's note: Hello everyone! Here's chapter 20, hope you like it._

~..~..~..~..

Delacroix was studying a map spread out across her desk. Already there had been several dementor attacks in the areas surrounding Azkaban and it was clear they were all moving south, towards them.

She had sent out teams of her aurors, under Cousteau, at points along the coast and along the country's border, trying to place shield spells wherever possible. Still, Delacroix knew it wouldn't be enough. All they needed was even one dementor to make it to a main city such as Paris, and the non-magical community wouldn't stand a chance.

And they still needed to locate Grindlewald after he fled last night's rally…

The woman took a breath, gathering herself before leaving her office.

Auror Scamander had lined up a series of suspects for questioning that morning, and she felt that she should assist. Auror Graves being unable to do so, as he and his team were focusing on tracking Grindlewald himself.

As she made her way downstairs, she was surprised to notice Newt Scamander walk past her without even a glance. She knew the younger Scamander brother didn't like making eye contact, but still, the man had always been civil.

Delacroix continued her journey, and noticed a woman being escorted by two aurors, her hands cuffed behind her back.

Spying Auror Scamander watching the woman being taken away, she approached him.

"Has something developed, Auror Scamander?" She asked.

"Leta Lestrange was the one who stole the money from Gringots," Auror Scamander nodded. "She was the one who's trail we followed into the catacombs yesterday."

"I see," Delacroix nodded, relieved that some progress had been made.

"As she is a British citizen, she's returning to the Ministry for further investigation," Theseus continued. "I'll interrogate her more thoroughly once I'm done here."

"Very well," Sabine nodded, knowing she had little jurisdiction over someone not of her own country, who had committed a crime on British soil.

"What about your brother?" She queried. "I walked past him as I came down," she explained as Theseus raised an eyebrow in question.

Theseus sighed.

"Leta and Newt were close at school," Theseus explained. "Whilst following Leta's trail into the ossuary, he refused to believe she had anything to do with Grindlewald. Then I saw Leta's parents at the rally…" Theseus swallowed. "Newt wasn't listening to my suspicions, or anyone else's, so I thought he'd listen to one of his creatures." He glanced at Delacroix. "Newt keeps kneazles, which are creatures that can sense an unscrupulous person. I asked Newt to assist in my interrogation, with a kneazle, and it was a kneazle that caused Leta to admit she'd stolen a niffler from my brother to rob Gringots."

The man shrugged.

"As much as I don't like seeing my brother hurt, Auror Delacroix, I like people taking advantage of his kind heart even less," Theseus explained.

Sabine raised her eyebrows.

"So, you kill two birds with one stone, as the English say," she nodded her understanding. "You get Leta to admit her crime and let your brother know the truth in a way he will accept. Very interesting, _Monsieur_ Scamander."

"And what of you, Auror Delacroix?" Theseus asked.

"I have teams trying to set up a perimeter to prevent the dementors from reaching France," she admitted. "Already there have been several attacks across Europe, and they seem to be heading south."

"You can't put a shield around an entire country," Theseus told her.

"I can try," Delacroix insisted. "Grindlewald is a dangerous man, and we need to find him before-"

"Oh, yes, on that note," Theseus cut her off, remembering, "Credence came in to the Ministry this morning, offering his assistance, in exchange for help finding out about his birth family."

"What?" Delacroix studied Theseus's face urgently.

"Well, he is adopted," Theseus granted, "and, I suppose, with his obscurus still likely killing him, I can understand him wanting answers before his time's up-"

"Did he tell you he killed a man in London?" Sabine asked bluntly, bringing Theseus up short.

"Excuse me?"

"When I interviewed Grimson last night," Delacroix nodded urgently. "He said he had been paid by Grindlewald to find the most powerful obcurial in the world. And he found Credence after he killed a man."

Delacroix frowned.

"You said Credence came here?" She echoed. "Where is he now?"

"With Graves," Theseus answered.

Sharing a look, they both hurried up the steps to the entrance hall and arrived just in time to see Graves and Credence making their way up the stairs to the main offices.

"Graves!" Theseus called getting the man's attention.

"Ah, Scamander, I thought you were still in interrogation." Graves greeted smoothly "Delacroix, we were just on our way to see you. We've just recovered something that could be quite useful."

Theseus glanced warily at Credence Barebone, who stared calmly back.

"I'll get someone else to continue the interrogations for me, and accompany you," Theseus announced. "I get the feeling we should all be present for this."

~..~..~..~..

The skies were dark with storm clouds and Newt pulled his coat tighter against the wind as he followed Hoppy through the cold streets of Paris, hoping she was leading him to Tina.

Leta had stolen from him, he reminded himself and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve again.

Tina had tried to tell him. Theseus had tried to tell him. Heck, even Queenie had tried to tell him Leta had taken advantage of him…

" _She was a taker. You need a giver."_

Newt felt that pulling sensation in his chest again and felt that if he could just find Tina, and tell her he was sorry he doubted her…

He had called her 'just an acquaintance,' he reminded himself as he walked.

Newt mentally slapped himself in the face.

Ten minutes after seeing Leta again and he had tried to brush Tina aside. What had he been thinking?

Tina had been the one to try and help find his niffler. She had been the one to see the connections when he had been too blind to see them.

She had followed Leta's trail to the ossuary, and still, Newt hadn't wanted to think Leta a part of any of this.

But when his kneazle had hissed at Leta, showing distrust, and the niffler had appeared out of her bag, Newt couldn't deny it anymore.

Leta had stolen from him.

She had broken into his case and stolen from him.

Newt wiped his face again as he followed Hoppy down the streets that were practically devoid of people. Most were likely waiting out the cold, wintery weather in one of the many café's that were dotted around the city.

Is that where Tina would be? Newt wondered.

He could imagine Tina in a café with Queenie and Jacob, and, for the first time, he wondered what he would say when he actually found her.

" _Sorry I doubted you,"_ seemed to be a good place to start.

" _Please forgive my stupidity,"_ seemed a good second choice.

Or, Newt considered, how about: _"I understand you're probably angry at my blindness, Tina, but I'll do anything I can to be worthy of your friendship in the future."_

Newt sighed. He was really not very good at this.

Perhaps he'd invite them down to the case, so he wouldn't have to say everything in a crowded café?

A meow caused Newt to look up, and he saw Hoppy had stopped slightly ahead of him, huddling anxiously against the ground.

They'd walked a fair distance, and Newt could see the Eiffel tower further ahead. Perhaps Tina, Jacob and Queenie had gone sightseeing?

Hoppy meowed again, more fearfully, and Newt squinted as he tried to follow the cat-like creature's line of sight.

The clouds had become very dark now, and the temperature had dropped further, as if threatening to snow.

However, it took Newt a few moments to realise that the cold he was experiencing wasn't just in the air…

Looking around, Newt's eyes widened as he noticed frost appearing on the ground, spreading rapidly, accompanied by a familiar chill that went straight to his heart.

Looking up, he saw the tell-tale outline of hooded figures gliding through the darkened cloud-covered sky and Newt felt the chill within him deepen.

"Tina," he whispered.

Stopping just long enough to put Hoppy safely in his case, Newt broke into a run.

~..~..~..~..

"So: care to have a show and tell, Graves?" Theseus asked drily as Delacroix's office door shut behind them.

"Here's the show," Graves answered, placing the pendant on Delacroix's desk and, with a wave of his hand, caused the necklace to hover in the air.

"And the tell?" Theseus prompted.

"This necklace could be what we need to draw Grindlewald to us," Graves announced. "He gave it to Credence back in America."

"How does it work?" Theseus asked, stepping closer to study the object.

"Don't touch it," Graves cautioned. "If you touch the symbol, it alerts Grindlewald."

"How do you know?" Theseus prompted.

"Because that's how I called him the first time, in New York," Credence spoke up, "before the subway."

"And you assume he will simply come?" Sabine queried. "Surely he wouldn't trust it now?"

"He still wants Credence," Theseus considered. "He was willing to threaten my brother to get us to hand him over in the ossuary."

"So, say Credence calls to Grindlewald, saying he's changed his mind and wants to join him. For… _acceptance?_ " Graves mused, glancing at Credence. "We pick the time and place, and ensure we have a team ready to subdue him when he arrives."

"And what of Credence?" Theseus asked, turning to the man in question. "Will we need to subdue you?"

Credence swallowed before shaking his head.

Theseus stepped closer.

"We know about the man you killed in London," he whispered and Credence's eyes widened. "The bounty hunter told us. So, if you even think about turning on us-"

"You can't do anything to me," Credence said quickly. "I still have an obscurus possibly killing me right now, nothing can be worse than that. Besides," he added, "I have immunity."

Theseus frowned in confusion before slowly turning to Graves.

"You agreed to a deal without us?" He asked the man.

"I didn't speak for you," Graves admitted. "But as I'm the one who can get the information Credence wants, I'm the one who will be affected most by this deal."

Graves's eyes regarded Credence warily.

"But clearly, I was not told everything."

"You know my obscurus has killed before." Credence reminded him. "It killed Mary-Lou Barebone, Chastity Barebone and Senator Shaw, back in New York. You knew it was capable. And you still agreed."

Graves took a breath.

"I can't control my obscurus completely yet, and I'm not sure if I ever will." Credence continued. "That man in London was beating me up and my obscurus protected me. It was self-defence."

Credence cast his eyes over Theseus and Delacroix.

"Would you rather I go to Grindlewald?" Credence asked. "He's promised me acceptance. Are you promising me a prison cell? I seem to already have a death sentence, and if I do, I want to die knowing I've done something _right_ , and knowing who I am."

Theseus considered the man before him.

"Well, if he is going to lose control of his obscurus," he granted, "we can at least try and make sure he takes the enemy out in the process."

Graves smirked.

"My thoughts, exactly, Auror Scamander."

A hammering on the door preceded a French auror rushing into Delacroix's office.

After a hurried exchange with Delacroix, she dismissed the auror before turning to the men in her office.

"Dementors have broken through the shield my team have put up," she announced. "They are in the streets of Paris."

~..~..~..~..

Newt passed muggle tourists and locals huddling against the walls of buildings, indicating he was getting close. He longed to help them, but knew he had to reach the dementors themselves to truly be of help.

Tina, he knew, would likely be in the thick of it. Even without the job title, Tina was an auror, and he knew, she would be right there, protecting everyone she could.

Picking up his pace, Newt caught a flash of silver light out of the corner of his eye.

 _Tina._

Without hesitation, Newt disapparated.

~..~..~..~..

Theseus, Graves, Delacroix, and any available aurors from their respective teams, apparated around the Eiffel tower.

Theseus swore as he saw dozens of dementors gliding through the streets. Muggles were sitting numbly against the sides of buildings or curled up, sobbing and shaking.

And already, Theseus felt the cold beginning to grip his chest…

"Spread out," Graves ordered, shaking his head to stay focused. "Wands at the ready. Get the non-magical community inside the buildings."

"This'll be a nightmare to obliviate," Theseus muttered as he readied himself, drawing his wand.

In moments, spells were flying as the aurors fought to keep the dementors away from the public.

~..~..~..~..

Credence sat restlessly in Delacroix's office. Theseus had informed Credence he would be better off staying where he was. Worried as he was for his friends' safety, as he couldn't produce a patronus charm, Credence agreed he may be more of a hindrance than a help.

"The dementors may even aggravate your obscurus, Credence," Theseus had theorised. "Which may be another reason Grindlewald released the dementors. It's another effort to reach you."

Staring at the pendant in the box on the desk simply caused Credence to grind his teeth, so instead, desperate to do _something_ , he decided to try and figure out how to perform a patronus charm. After all, he'd seen Newt do it plenty of times at the Hogwarts school gate, so he knew the words.

He just needed a happy memory to fuel it, right?

Closing his eyes, Credence drew his wand, and cast through his mind, trying to find a happy memory…

He had to admit, he didn't have many to choose from. And practically all of them were of his time in London. But still, surely, he could find a happy memory good enough to make a patronus charm?

 _Walking through the snow with Willow, as she showed him how to catch snowflakes on his tongue._

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," Credence said as he opened his eyes.

Nothing happened.

Credence tried to focus on the memory of the snow falling lightly on his skin as he walked Willow home after their time at the cinema. He'd seen his first film that day…

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," Credence repeated firmly.

Again, nothing happened.

Frowning, Credence wondered if he'd done something wrong. Every other time he'd tried an unfamiliar spell, he got it practically first time.

Maybe he needed a stronger memory?

Getting to his feet, Credence stood in the centre of the room. Closing his eyes, he could imagine he was back in Hogwarts, with Professor Imamu standing before him, talking him through casting the spell. He could practically hear her voice…

" _Magic is rooted in emotion, Credence_ ," he could imagine his teacher saying. _"It is your happiness that is protecting you. Find that happy memory: one strong enough to fill you up. And then use your mind and magic to focus that into the spell. Your heart feels it, your mind focuses it, your body directs it."_

Credence searched his mind, and once again thought of Willow.

He could see her standing before him after he'd walked her home from the park last night. Had it really only been last night?

She had accepted him, completely. Magic, obscurus, abusive upbringing and all…

In his memory, she reached up and pulled his head down, towards her, where she could place a kiss at the corner of his mouth…

" _Expecto Patronum_."

A silver, mist-like, light burst from the tip of his wand, taking Credence by surprise. As Credence lost his concentration, however, the light faded.

A smile pulled at his mouth. Something had happened!

Still, he knew it wasn't enough.

"Come on," he muttered, brandishing his wand again. "I have to do this."

~..~..~..~..

Newt apparated to a scene that chilled him to the core.

Dementors were sweeping through the streets of Paris. Muggles were screaming, crying or simply huddling against the walls, unable to understand what was happening to them.

Flashes of silver could be seen between the buildings as aurors and various members of the wizarding public, worked to try and repel the dementors, and Newt searched frantically among them for his friends before he heard a familiar voice as he turned a corner.

" _Expecto Patronum_!"

Tina was shielding Jacob and Queenie as best as she could, having ushered the public into the nearby buildings before drawing the dementors away from the street. But the sheer number of dementors in the area were beginning to stifle her magic. Jacob, unable to see the dementors, let alone fight back, was doing his best to help calm Queenie down, as she clutched her head, unable to even think of the shielding spell, let alone cast one.

"Too much!" She sobbed, completely overwhelmed. "Stop, please."

Newt rushed forward just as Tina's patronus flickered and faded as she too, became overwhelmed, and fell to her knees.

"No!" Newt drew his wand as a dementor flew straight at her. "Tina!"

Tina could feel herself shaking as strong, skeletal hands gripped her jaw, forcing her mouth open…

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

A burst of white light shot from Newt's wand and charged towards the group, scattering the dementors in all directions. As his patronus got to work, Newt rushed over to his friends. Jacob appeared ill and shaky, Queenie was now unconscious, and Tina appeared frozen, as she lay on the ground.

Slowly, Newt lowered himself beside the dark-haired woman, rummaging in his pocket until he found a chocolate bar. He passed a piece to Jacob who took it, seeming without comprehension, and automatically popped it in his mouth.

"Tina?"

Carefully, gently, Newt cupped Tina's face, and he noticed how scarred his skin was in comparison to hers. Her skin was flawless and soft…

And now pale and clammy as she fought to recover from the dementor attack. Breaking off a small piece of chocolate, Newt gently placed it on Tina's lips, and was gratified when she automatically licked her lips, drawing the chocolate into her mouth.

Smiling in relief, he was about to prepare his case when a shining light alerted him of his patronus returning, indicating the threat had gone.

Looking up, Newt was shocked to see, not his familiar platypus, but a large, shining porcupine.

Slowly, Newt reached out a hand, but as soon as his fingertips made contact, the porcupine faded, it's silver light disappearing, leaving the area lit only by a flickering streetlamp.

A groan from Tina snapped him back to reality and he quickly got to work assessing the condition of his friends, before setting his case on the ground and opening it. Carefully, he lowered the unconscious Queenie and Tina down into his shed, before supporting a weak and trembling Jacob down the ladder.

"Wha-what just happened, Newt?" Jacob mumbled, his unfocused eyes landing on Queenie.

"Is she dead?" he asked, a desperate sob choking his words slightly.

"No, Jacob, Queenie's not dead," Newt assured his friend as he tapped his wand against the kettle, getting the water to a boil as he dug a tin of hot chocolate out of a small cupboard. "Here, eat this," Newt passed the rest of the chocolate bar to Jacob, who ate it numbly.

"Chocolate's the best thing to help you recover after a dementor attack," Newt explained as, with a flick of his wand, two cots appeared, magically pushing the walls of the shed further out, making more room. Gently, he placed Queenie on one cot and Tina on the other.

"Dementors?" Jacob repeated slowly, as colour began to return to his cheeks. "I didn't see anything."

"No, you wouldn't," Newt explained distractedly as the kettle whistled it was done, and he set about making two mugs of hot chocolate. "Muggles can't see dementors."

"But what about Queenie?" Jacob pressed, unable to take his eyes off his wife. "What did they do to her? It got so cold…"

"They make you relive your worst memories," Newt spoke, swallowing. "They suck all the happiness out of you until there is no joy left within you. The worst they can do," here, Newt had to take a breath as he remembered seeing the decaying, clammy hands of the dementor wrapped around Tina's throat, "is suck out your soul, leaving you as nothing more than a living, empty shell."

Jacob's eyes widened as his gaze flew to Queenie. "She-"

"Will be fine," Newt told him, pressing a steaming mug into his hand. "But we need to get the chocolate in her. It will help her recover faster."

Hurrying to Tina's side, Newt carefully lifted a spoonful of hot chocolate and dribbled a small amount over her lips. Automatically, Tina swallowed and, almost instantly, more colour appeared in her cheeks.

Getting the idea, Jacob sat beside Queenie, gently spooning hot chocolate into her mouth, his own breathing relaxing as Queenie did, her skin slowly losing the sickly pallor and returning to her normal peaches and cream complexion.

After about ten minutes of this, the two women appeared to be sleeping peacefully, and Newt placed the mug on the floor.

"How are you feeling, Jacob?" Newt asked.

"Better," Jacob nodded. "Nice to know that chocolate's a medicine in your world," he attempted a smile, which caused Newt to quirk a corner of his mouth in response.

"I couldn't do anything."

Newt's looked up to see Jacob leaning against the wall of the shed, staring down at Queenie as she slept.

"I couldn't do anything, Newt," Jacob repeated quietly. "I couldn't even see them. It was so cold, like in the middle of winter, but the ice went straight to my bones. Then the screaming started..." Jacob rubbed both hands down his face as he breathed in shakily. "I was back in the trenches at the front, bullets going over my head, the sounds of the boys in my camp screaming as they fell backwards… And my brother… I saw my brother running past me, saying we needed to deliver more bullets to the gunners… I went to go help and next thing I know, I've got blood all over me and my brother's just staring up at the sky…"

Jacob slid down the wall into a seated position on the floor as Newt got up and quickly filled another mug with hot chocolate.

"Here, Jacob," Newt pressed the mug into his friend's hands, "drink, it'll help."

"Tina pushed us back, away from the street," Jacob continued shakily. "She started casting that spell, with the silver light…"

"It's called a patronus charm," Newt explained, hoping to help Jacob calm down by focusing on a less distressing topic. "You focus on a powerful happy memory, and that is what powers your patronus. Each patronus is different depending on the wizard who conjures it. As your patronus feels no despair, dementors can't harm it, and so it acts as a shield, chasing the dementors away, or at least keeping them at a safe distance."

Jacob nodded numbly. "The girls both did it at first. Two different animals," he smiled slightly. "Queenie's was a dolphin, it was perfect for her. But then," Jacob stared into his hot chocolate, "I heard Tina yelling that there were more coming. Queenie started to struggle, and she collapsed on the ground, clutching her head and crying." Tears began to slowly stream down Jacob's kind face as he stared at Queenie, sleeping on the small bed. "I couldn't do anything, Newt," he repeated. "I couldn't help Tina, and she was struggling. She got less and less light each time she said that spell. And I couldn't do anything for Queenie, she was just clutching her head. She was in so much pain, and I couldn't do anything, except hold her."

Newt lowered his eyes. He'd never been very good at this sort of thing, but he knew his friend needed help.

"Queenie's a legillimens," Newt reminded Jacob, "with her ability, the dementors probably affect her more than anyone else because, she's not only reliving her own worst memories, but those of the people around her as well."

" _Oh, God_ ," Jacob moaned. Had he caused Queenie more pain by being there?

Realising he'd picked the wrong method of making his friend feel better, Newt sat down beside him to try another tactic.

"As unique as she is, I imagine Queenie would have felt quite alone at times, growing up," Newt began slowly. "And while she's never explicitly said, she's always given the impression that she finds your mind a much nicer place to be than most others'." Newt turned to his friend and waited until Jacob raised his head. "You say you couldn't do anything but hold her, but I think that may have been just what she needed: To know that you were there, and she wasn't alone."

Slowly, Jacob took a shaky breath before finally starting on his mug of hot chocolate.

"This is good," he held up the cup with a wan smile.

"Honeydukes' finest," Newt replied.

~..~..~..~..

Willow shakily entered her flat and removed her gloves before stoking up the fire, trying to dispel the chill in the air.

She was so relieved to be back home, as she hadn't felt herself throughout her whole shift that morning. Her emotions had been all over the place: Several times she had to bite her tongue from snapping at a customer, or had to quickly splash water on her face from the staff room sink after nearly bursting into tears at the slightest criticism.

In fact, and Willow wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, but every person who had come through the flower shop that morning had been difficult. Everyone seemed to be angry, or worried, or sad, and the feeling had just seemed to be spreading and growing with each passing hour.

Sighing with relief as the fire slowly grew in the hearth, Willow shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the stand, glad she didn't have to deal with people until Eliza returned home after her shift ended that evening.

However, feeling the warmth of the fire at her back only seemed to make Willow more aware of how _cold_ she felt. It was almost like having a fever.

Willow tried to breathe deeply as she suddenly felt pressure rising in her chest. Her throat closed up and she felt her eyes begin with fill with tears as she began to have a panic attack.

' _Something's not right,'_ Willow thought, rubbing at her throat in an effort to soothe the tightness there.

Turning, Willow grabbed the woollen blanket draped over her favourite chair and wrapped it around her shoulders tightly. Sitting, she curled herself into a ball, staring into the flames.

In, one, two three. Out, one, two, three, she breathed.

' _Focus on something happier'_ , she told herself, trying to snap out of this low emotional state she was in.

The smell of freesias caught her attention and she turned to look over at the side table nearest her, where she'd placed the book she'd been reading last night. A pretty red freesia was sitting in a small vase, and she smiled at the memory of Credence shyly holding the flower out to her after making it grow with a simple touch.

' _He is so sweet.'_ And for the first time, Willow could feel the cold slipping away, to be replaced by a softer warmth spreading through her.

A cold wind must have slipped through somewhere, for the still-growing flames in the hearth suddenly flickered and died as despair overwhelmed her again, and she fought the tears welling up in her eyes.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Willow told herself firmly, picking up the flower to inhale the sweet scent, trying to keep hold of that warm feeling…

But still, fear clutched at her chest and she remembered the feeling of her neck burning as Patrick held her down and placed the cigarette on her skin…

' _Your mine, now,"_ he'd whispered in her ear.

A whimper escaped her lips at the memory and Willow quickly shifted her position so her feet touched the floor and she sat with a straight back, hoping this would help her breathe.

Drawing the blanket tighter, in an effort to keep out the cold, Willow closed her eyes, and imagined herself in a circle of white light. It was a visualisation she'd read about, studying the New Thought Movement, and she had used it before, whenever she had felt herself 'spiralling down'. Usually she could tell when she was getting low, but today, the feeling had come over her like a sudden illness.

She saw herself sitting in her protective circle, like she was sitting in a spot of moonlight. Again, she focused on breathing deeply, this time imagining herself breathing in the light and breathing out a black vapour, which sank into the ground beneath her feet and disappeared.

"In with Love, out with Fear," she whispered keeping her words in time with her breathing. "In with Love…Out with Fear..."

Suddenly, Willow had the impression she was not alone. It was like someone was standing right in front of her. She could _feel_ someone in the room, despite never hearing any footsteps.

Opening her eyes, Willow was startled to find she was correct.

There was a man standing before her. His pale eyes were cold, and the smile he wore did nothing to alleviate the shiver running up and down her spine.

"Fascinating," the man whispered, studying her as if she were a curious insect. "You're more sensitive than most of your kind, Miss Arden. You seem able to actually _sense_ the dementors outside."

' _The what?'_ Willow wondered, before brushing the question aside. There were more pressing questions to ask.

"Who are you?" Willow asked, standing up quickly, not wanting to be attacked sitting down, but unable to keep the tremor from her voice. The man was simply standing nonchalantly, yet there was something about him that made Willow want to run.

"Oh, how rude of me," the man admonished lightly, giving a slight bow.

"Gellert Grindlewald," he introduced himself. "It's pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Arden. I've heard much about you."

Willow swallowed as she recalled Credence's story the night previously.

"I've heard of you, too," she said slowly.

' _Running won't work'_ , she surmised. ' _And neither will fighting.'_

"Oh, so you have been told about me," the man smiled in a way that was charming and chilling at the same time.

"What do you want?" Willow asked, figuring talking was her best option, for now.

Grindlewald stepped forward and lifted her chin with a cool finger.

"I want you," he whispered, "to help me convince Credence to join my cause."

~..~..~..~..

It was fifteen minutes before either of the girls stirred.

Newt and Jacob had never left their bedside, so when Queenie began shifting in her sleep, Jacob was immediately beside her.

"Hey, Queenie," Jacob greeted softly as Queenie's blue eyes flickered open. "How're you doing?"

"I'm okay, Jacob, Honey," Queenie smiled groggily as she slowly sat up. "What happened?"

"Dementor attack," Newt explained slowly. "We're down in my case."

"Newt saved us," Jacob added.

"Thank you, Newt," Queenie's smile was shaky but sincere before her eyes fell on her sister, lying in the cot beside her.

"Tina!" Queenie rushed to sit beside her sister on the bed, closing her eyes as her head spun.

"Easy, Queenie," Jacob gently held the blonde's arm as she swayed slightly.

"She's had chocolate," Newt explained as Queenie focused on her sister's mind, "she's just sleeping it off."

As Queenie continued to focus, sorting through her sister's mind, Newt began to worry.

"How is she, Queenie?"

Feeling the worry behind the magizoologists' words, Queenie gave him a smile.

"She'll be okay," Queenie assured the room, and immediately the worry lessened in Newt's mind. "But, she's been through a lot of bad experiences, so it may take a little while longer before she wakes up."

Newt bowed his head in relief. Fears he didn't even realise he'd been holding onto suddenly left him and he felt lighter than he'd been all night.

"I'll make you some cocoa, Queenie," Jacob volunteered, determined to do something to take care of her.

"Thanks, Honey," Queenie smiled gratefully as Jacob turned to get a fresh mug from the small cupboard. Queenie scanned Jacob's mind like a familiar, comforting novel. He was so sweet, his thoughts only on trying to do what he could to help her.

Newt, on the other hand was focused on Tina. Queenie could see his mind studying her, looking for any change, any indication that she was going to wake. But underneath the almost scientific observation, she could feel something simmering, or maybe growing was the right word…something warm, in his chest…

"Please don't read my mind, Queenie," Newt spoke gently but firmly.

"So, what happened?" Queenie asked carefully. And immediately, she was bombarded by the memories of both Jacob and Newt:

 _She saw through Jacob's eyes, feeling as helpless as he felt, watching she and Tina fight off an enemy he couldn't even see. And it was so cold…_

 _She saw through Newt's eyes, seeing herself on the ground, in Jacob's arms as Tina's spell faded and a dementor grasped her around the throat._

 _Newt's chest had tightened painfully as he drew his wand…_

 _Jacob had been about to black out himself when a silver burst of light chased the coldness away. Newt offered him a piece of chocolate, which he ate numbly, feeling warmth slowly returning to his body._

 _Newt carefully studying Tina's face, feeling a mixture of relief, fear and admiration as he carefully fed her a small piece of chocolate._

 _Jacob stared in wonder as he sees a glowing silver light approach them…_

 _Newt's surprise and confusion as he stretched out a hand…_

"Your patronus changed?" Queenie queried curiously.

"Sorry?" Newt asked.

"Your patronus," Queenie repeated. "It changed its form?"

"They can do that?" Jacob asked, not quite following, but still interested.

"A patronus charm is unique to the wizard or witch who conjures it," Newt repeated.

"It's said to represent your secret self, or your greatest strength, drawing on emotions you never knew you needed," Queenie added. "Mine's a dolphin," she smiled.

"Yeah, I saw," Jacob smiled affectionately back. "That suits you."

"Mine used to be a platypus," Newt supplied. When his happy memories purely consisted of either his creatures, or Leta, a part of his brain told him, causing Newt to frown. Leta was hardly a happy memory now, and he tried to cast his mind back to the quick battle. What had he been thinking of, when the dementors attacked?

"But now, you say it's changed?" Jacob pressed. "Why did that happen?"

"I don't know," Newt admitted, stammering slightly. "It's not unheard of, for a patronus to change. If someone goes through a life changing experience or a great shock, for example, and they have to draw upon different strengths from within themselves…" His voice tapered off as his scientific mind began processing this information.

"What's your patronus now?" Queenie couldn't help the feeling of excitement building up in her chest as she followed Newt's thoughts.

"A porcupine," Newt answered and his attention was caught by the smile on Queenie's face.

"What is it?" Newt asked warily.

"Did you know that Tina's full name: Porpentina, actually means 'porcupine'?" Queenie supplied triumphantly. "It was mama's favourite animal."

Jacob watched as his friend appeared to freeze as realisation and shock crossed his face.

"Queenie," Newt tried to keep his voice steady as he held up a hand to prevent the woman continuing. "Please: Don't say anything more."

"Aw, Honey, you don't have to be scared," Queenie assured him. "This is Tina-"

"I'm sorry, I asked you not to," Newt chided, trying to focus on breathing.

Jacob knew he was missing something here and wanted desperately to catch up. Newt's patronus is the meaning of Tina's name? So, if a patronus changes after a 'life changing experience' or shock… what would be a life changing event for Newt that'd make his charm turn into-

A powerful, happy memory…

Wait a minute…As an idea floated into his mind, he was rewarded by Queenie sending a radiant smile in his direction, and Jacob couldn't help it, he began to grin as well.

"A life changing experience, huh?" He spoke up and he couldn't help but notice a blush spreading across his friend's face. "You mean like: falling in love?"

"I have to feed my creatures," Newt announced, standing up quickly, but Jacob blocked him before he made it to the door.

"No, no, no, no." Jacob told his friend good naturedly. "They don't need anything until this evening. I've helped you often enough to know the routine."

"I have to check on them," Newt replied stubbornly, determined not to make eye contact. "Please get out of my way, Jacob."

"No," Jacob told Newt gently. "I think Tina needs you more than your creatures do right now, Newt. And she'll probably wake up soon," he added. "Don't you want to be here when she does?"

Newt kept his eyes lowered. He always hated being the centre of attention, but he knew his pounding heart had nothing to do with the smiles on his friends' faces.

"Newt," Queenie placed a hand on the wizard's shoulder comfortingly, "Tina is _not_ Leta."

Newt's head shot up and he finally met the legilimens' eyes.

"She is not Leta," Queenie repeated firmly, before Newt could make any kind of objection. "She's _Tina_."

Slowly, Newt's gaze turned to land on the woman lying peacefully on the bed.

"Tina," he whispered.

"That's right," Queenie encouraged, pushing him towards the bed. "Go on, now."

"We'll check on your creatures, Newt," Jacob assured him with a smile.

"Thank you," Newt answered automatically before clearing his throat awkwardly. "Um, Queenie," he began, a blush creeping back into his cheeks. "I don't suppose you could tell me if Tina-"

"I'm sorry, Newt," Queenie sang as she opened the shed door, "you did request that I not say anything more, so I'll respect that, and say nothing."

"That's not fair," Newt objected. Everybody appears to know how he feels, his emotions laid bare for all to see, so why should he not be given a glimpse of Tina's regard for him?

"No," Queenie corrected gently. "You haven't told Tina how you feel, so, why should you know how she feels?" The woman shrugged. "I just want to keep a level playing field." Flashing a smile over her shoulder in farewell, Queenie and Jacob left the shed, Jacob taking a moment to point Newt back to Tina, as if to remind him where his focus should be.

As if Newt needed the encouragement.

~..~..~..~..

Credence grit his teeth in frustration. All he'd managed to do so far was create silvery light. Which, he figured was an accomplishment, but, not enough, he surmised, to allow him to help out his friends if needed.

The door flew open, causing Credence to start, only to realise it was Graves returning.

"Credence," Graves greeted, shutting the office door behind him. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Credence answered, putting his wand away. "Where are the others?"

"The dementors were all over the city," Graves stated. "The others had to stay behind to obliviate the witnesses." He huffed lightly. "We protect them, and yet they'll have no idea their souls were even at risk."

Graves smirked slightly.

"This can be a rather thankless job at times," he commented. "Full of contradictions."

Credence frowned as Graves stepped toward him, carefully, and he felt his obscurus shift in his chest, as if unsettled.

"Much like when Tina protected you from a beating by your mother," Graves noted. "She got fired for doing the very thing that made her want to become an auror in the first place."

"So, give Tina her job back," Credence pleaded. "You promised. That was part of our deal."

Graves' eyes drifted to the necklace sitting innocently on the desk, and smirked slightly.

"I'm sorry, Credence," he told him, as he picked up the box with one hand, studying the pendant. "But that is actually out of my ability to do."

"But it's not fair," Credence insisted. "Tina's done nothing but try to help me. She's a _good_ person. She doesn't deserve to be treated like this."

"No, she doesn't," Graves agreed as he came closer, studying Credence carefully.

"None of us do," he added softly. "And yet, with the laws standing as they are, none of us: you, Tina, nor even me will ever get the recognition we deserve."

Credence frowned again, his wariness increasing, for Graves' words sounded strangely familiar…

Slowly, the man began to smile as he watched the realisation dawn in Credence's eyes.

"Hello Credence," the man-who-was-not-Graves said, a note of something like pride in his voice.

"Grindlewald," Credence surmised, feeling his heartrate increase, and the man let out a chuckle, impressed that he'd caught on so quickly.

"Careful," he raised a hand in caution as Credence tensed. "Don't want to let your obscurus loose in here, do you? So many innocent people in this building…" The man wearing Graves' face shook his head, mockingly. "What would Tina say?"

"Pretty galling," Credence told him, still recovering from the realisation. "Coming here."

"Everyone who could have stopped me is away," the man-who-was-not-Graves shrugged nonchalantly before focusing his gaze on the man before him. "And I knew you'd be here, alone."

"How?" Credence demanded.

The man smirked again.

"I have many ways of getting information, Credence," he spoke slowly. "The tracer on this pendant, for example: do you think I didn't know where this was? I'm glad I've got it back," he added lightly. "Thank you, for ensuring its safe return." He glanced up, eyebrows raised.

"You sure you don't want to keep it?" He asked innocently.

"Yes," Credence answered instantly.

The man shrugged, placing the box in his pocket.

"No matter," he sighed. "I didn't just come here for the necklace."

Credence swallowed.

"I need you to come with me now, Credence," the man-who-was-not-Graves requested. "We have so much to talk about. Try to fight me," he added calmly, "and Miss Arden dies."

Credence's mind raced and he had just enough time to rip a button off his shirt cuff before Grindlewald grabbed his arm and they disapparated.

~..~..~..~..~

Tina shifted slightly before her eyes slowly flickered open.

"Tina," Newt couldn't keep the relief out of his voice as he helped her sit up before handing her a steaming mug.

"I'm so glad you're awake."

"Queenie?" Tina asked worriedly, looking around the room.

"Is fine." Newt assured her. "We're in my case. She and Jacob are out with my creatures now, recovering."

Tina took a shaky breath as she took a sip of the hot chocolate.

"What happened, Newt?" She asked, her voice quiet.

"Dementors are all over the place," he answered. "I saw the aurors battling them outside before I found you."

"I was back in that death cell," Tina mumbled, taking another sip of chocolate.

"Well, they appear to be gone for now," Newt was quick to assure her. "The aurors will be obliviating anyone who saw what they shouldn't."

Tina regarded him shrewdly.

"It was you who made the dementors go away, wasn't it?" She surmised, and was rewarded as a blush began to appear on the magizoologist's cheeks.

"Thank you," Tina told him earnestly, reaching forward to place a hand on his. "That must have been a really strong patronus to drive away all those dementors," she praised him, causing him to blush even more. "Very impressive, Newt."

Newt was staring very intently at the floorboards of the potting shed.

"I don't think I got _all_ of them," he admitted humbly. "I'm sure the aurors were the ones who sent off the majority."

He would not look at her, he decided. He didn't think he was strong enough.

But all it took was for Tina's thumb to rub his hand in a small, circular, motion before he lost his resolve and lifted his gaze.

She was smiling at him.

She was still clearly shaken, her skin still pale from the dementor attack.

But she was here, in his potting shed, smiling at him.

Tina Goldstein…

The feeling in his chest became more intense and he had to break the contact, sitting up straighter in his chair.

Had she read his expression? He wondered. Were his emotions written clearly on his face for her to see?

But as Tina's face was now half-covered by her mug, as she took another long sip of chocolate, he couldn't quite tell. Human expressions were something he had never been good at reading, anyway.

He took a breath.

Was it possible to want something so badly, but be completely terrified at the same time?

 _Yes_. He swallowed as he was able to answer his own question. _Yes, it was_.

 _Could he do this again?_ He wondered, feeling himself break into a cold sweat.

He laughed at himself in his mind. He'd chased after an obscurus, faced off against the most feared wizard of all time and had just sent at least one hundred dementors scattering in all directions.

But tell Tina Goldstein how he felt about her? Newt pondered this as he tried to keep his breathing even.

How could he even begin to do that?

"Newt?"

The magizoologist looked up to see Tina looking at him in concern. Clearly some of his internal conflict must have shown on his face.

"Are you alright?"

Newt cleared his throat.

This was _Tina_ , he reminded himself. And surely, if she felt nothing for him, Queenie would have told him, he reasoned. Queenie wouldn't do something so cruel as give him false hope.

"You've seen my patronus before, haven't you, Tina?" Newt asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Yes," Tina nodded, "when you used it to enter Hogwarts. It's a platypus, isn't it?"

Newt took a breath. This was it…

"Not anymore," he admitted.

 _Can't turn back now,_ he told himself as Tina's expression became curious.

"Really? It changed?" Tina placed her mug to one side and stared at Newt with interest. "What is it now?"

Rather than telling her, Newt simply drew his wand.

" _Expecto Patronum_."

Tina felt her jaw drop in wonder as a shining silver porcupine emerged from Newt's wand and began to move around the potting shed, filling the small space with its beautiful light.

A _porcupine_ , Tina marvelled.

The realization as to what this could possibly mean caused emotion to swell in Tina's chest.

Slowly, she moved her eyes back to Newt, who, once again, was staring at the floor.

"You were my happy memory, Tina," Newt confessed as the light from his patronus continued to light up the small space. "I watched you fall to the ground, and all I could think about, was how I didn't want to lose you." He finally lifted his eyes and Tina was blown away by the level of sincerity in his expression.

"I _couldn't_ lose you, Tina," he told her.

Tina felt herself well up from Newt's pure honesty, the feeling in her chest growing to such an extent it became difficult to breathe.

Concerned at the sight of tears, Newt made as if to gently brush them off her cheeks before pulling back, unsure.

'You've already been too forward, Newt,' he told himself. 'Don't push your luck.'

However, he needn't have worried, as Tina gently placed her hand once more over his own, brushing her fingers against his skin.

Hope filled his chest as he studied Tina's gently smiling expression, hardly daring to believe that she could-

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The pair jolted to their feet as the sound reverberated loudly through the case. Newt's patronus faded and disappeared almost instantly, leaving the room feeling dreary with the sudden absence of its light.

"What was that?" Tina wondered.

Newt closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to control his annoyance at the interruption.

"That," he explained, "was someone knocking on the suitcase lid."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: Okay, okay, calm down! (Dodges a stunning spell) Just calm your Newtina shipping hearts down and let me explain…_

 _Thank you._

 _Now, this segment with our fabulous foursome dealing with dementors was one of the earliest scenes I wrote for this story and I have been waiting for_ _ **ages**_ _to find a place to put it, and I am so, so,_ _so_ _, happy, to finally show it here._

 _I remember J.K Rowling being asked what form Newt's patronus was and the answer was simply 'Big Spoiler.' So, of course, fans went crazy spinning theories. My favourite one was shown in a video by 'SuperCarlinBrothers' theorising that Newt's patronus would be a porcupine, in honour of Tina, as his 'hidden strength' was likely the ability to form a true bond with another human being, as opposed to just his creatures._

 _Here is the link to the video here, if you're interested in learning the whole theory._

 _watch?v=h9dzU4GWo7g_

 _After watching this video, I began to wonder: if this was the case, how would Newt discover this? And I reasoned that, at some point, Newt must save Tina from a dementor, and then this whole segment practically wrote itself._

 _However, the fact remains that there is still a battle carrying on outside, and, while I can imagine this being a moment for Newt and Tina to begin bridging the gap between their hearts, it's probably not the best time for them to fully realise it._

 _So, yes, I had them be interrupted. Don't worry, they'll continue this conversation in a later chapter._

 _I also wanted to showcase Jacob and Queenie here, as I believe their experiences were important too. In a deleted scene in the first 'Fantastic Beasts' movie, Queenie reads Jacob's mind and realises he lost his brother during the war. I also figured the dementors would have a highly powerful impact on Queenie, due to her gift, and wondered how the two would cope with being around dementors, and I figured they would really need each other._

 _Now, as powerful as Credence is, I would imagine that a patronus charm would be one spell that he would struggle with, due to their being so much fear in his upbringing. And, if Harry was affected strongly by the dementors due to the fact he saw his mother murdered when he was a one year old, I could easily imagine the dementors having a hugely profound effect on Credence, considering the abuse he was subject to growing up._

 _However, I wanted to show that he is beginning to find joy in life, he's just still a little lost at the moment. So, he could make light, but not a full patronus._

 _I couldn't resist Grindlewald doing his 'GrindleGraves' trick again, being reminded of how Newt, Tina and Dumbledore helped Queenie to escape the Ministry in the process._

 _For while I know Grindlewald is a highly powerful wizard, the fact he played Graves for so long tells me he does prefer coercion to killing, if he can help it._

 _And I wanted to showcase Willow's sensitivity to magic, even though she was not 'magical' in the wizard sense of the word. This has been an idea in my mind ever since I learned about the Book and Quill kept at Hogwarts, and it's an idea I will develop further in the story: How many levels are there to magic? If you show some degree of magic but do not qualify as a wizard, what magical abilities, if any, do you actually have?_

 _I think that's it… Any questions?_

 _Please leave a review!_


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's note: Hi everybody! Here's chapter 21. Hope you like it._

~..~..~..~..

"Thought this thing looked familiar," Theseus commented in relief, standing back as his brother climbed out of his case. "Are you alright, Newt?"

"This had better be important, Theseus," Newt told him irritably, causing his older brother to raise his eyebrows.

"Well, Grindlewald just unleashed a horde of Dementors across the countryside, how's that for important?" Theseus snapped, before taking a shaky bite of the chocolate bar in his hand.

Looking around for the first time, Newt realised he was back in the French Ministry. Theseus had apparently seen his case lying in the streets of Paris, and brought it back with him.

"And to top it all off," Theseus continued, "Credence has disappeared!"

"What?" Newt asked.

"What's happened to Credence?"

Theseus turned as Tina, Queenie and Jacob emerged from the case.

"What happened to you lot?" Theseus asked.

"Same thing that happened to you," Newt answered quickly, gesturing to the chocolate in his brother's hand. "Now: what's this about Credence?"

"We told him to stay here, as we thought his obscurus wouldn't cope well with the dementors," Sabine Delacroix spoke up from behind Newt, who started, not realising the woman was there.

"After driving off the dementors, we left the obliviation squad to handle the non-wizards, and we just arrived back to find him gone." The woman hit the desk in frustration.

"He betrays us serve his own goals," she muttered bitterly, and Newt noted the chocolate bar in her hand was uneaten. "Perhaps Grindlewald offered him a better deal."

"I highly doubt that," Newt said firmly.

"We don't know that," Theseus backed up his brother.

"The necklace is gone," Delacroix gestured to the bare table.

"What necklace?" Tina asked, curious.

"Grindlewald gave it to Credence in New York," Theseus was quick to inform her. "He'd touch the pendant, and Grindlewald would know Credence was calling him, and he'd apparate to him.

"If that's the case, then Credence couldn't have used it to leave," Tina insisted.

Drawing her wand, Tina began to cast magical detection spells throughout the room.

"We've already done that," Theseus informed her. "Someone disapparated out of here."

"Then we know it wasn't Credence, for he hasn't learned to disapparate yet," Newt answered.

"Yeah, I'd say someone took advantage of the fact that we'd all be out," Tina suddenly knelt down and picked an object off the floor.

It was a small shirt button.

Studying the button in her hands, considering, Tina waved her wand over it muttering spells under her breath.

"What's that, Tina?" Newt asked, spying the small object in her hand.

"A button that was on the floor," Tina answered distractedly. "I think it was Credence's."

"And, how does that help?" Jacob asked, trying to keep up.

"Don't you see? Credence left us a trail." She held up the button. "We can trace him, now."

"And he'll be where Grindlewald is," Delacroix nodded. "Auror Bennet!" She ordered as she spotted the man passing her office door. "Fetch your _Monsieur_ Graves!"

"Where is Mr Graves?" Tina wondered.

"Recovering," Delacroix answered carefully.

"Of course," Newt nodded, for Mr Graves had been kept prisoner by Grindlewald for months. You don't go through an experience like that without it having a lasting effect.

Newt briefly wondered what memories the dementors made Graves relive, and then figured he'd rather not know.

"You should try and recover as well, Auror Delacroix," Newt gestured to the uneaten chocolate in her hand.

Sabine looked shakily down at the chocolate bar, as if she'd forgotten she was holding it.

Numbly, the woman raised it to her mouth and took a bite.

"We need a map," Theseus considered, taking another bite of chocolate to clear his head. "And a team who's still ready and able?"

Newt and Tina both raised their hands.

~..~..~..~..

Grindlewald dropped his disguise as Credence stumbled and landed hard.

Slowly, Credence got to his feet, slightly winded as he cast his eyes around him.

They seemed to be back in the ossuary, just in a different room to where the rally had been.

"This place is full of hidden tunnels and rooms," Grindlewald explained as torches lit up around them, casting an eerie, flickering light across the stone floor. "The only way to find us is if you know where to look."

As Credence's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he felt his breath catch in his throat as he spied a figure lying prone in the centre of the room.

"Willow!" Credence rushed forward.

"She's just unconscious," Gellert assured him, watching Credence curiously as he checked the young woman over in concern.

"Please wake up," Credence pleaded, sweeping strands of Willow's hair out of her face as he tried to revive her, raking his brain for any spell he'd learnt so far that would help.

But no, he couldn't recall Imamu or Dumbledore teaching him a spell to wake someone from unconsciousness.

Credence hit a fist against the stone floor in frustration as his obscurus shifted in his chest.

What was the point of magic if he couldn't help Willow now?

Gellert pointed his wand at the woman on the floor.

" _Enervate_ ," he said.

Willow's eyes flickered open to find Credence leaning over her in concern.

"Credence?" She asked slowly, her foggy brain still trying to catch up.

"Willow!" He exclaimed in relief, flicking a wary glance in Grindlewald's direction, but the wizard continued to simply watch with something like scientific interest. "Are you alright?"

"I… was at home…" Willow blinked slowly as she began to recall what had happened in her flat. Suddenly, everything clunked into place in Willow's mind and she scrambled to her feet.

"Credence, you have to go!" She told him. "You have to get out of here."

"Not without you," Credence told her.

Gellert smirked.

"Neither of you are going anywhere," he told the pair coldly, causing Willow to start, whirling around to spy the man who had brought her here.

"Not until I say so."

Credence swallowed.

"You said you wanted to talk," He reminded Grindlewald. "Why is Willow here?"

"I _do_ want to talk with you, Credence," Gellert told him. "And the squib girl is here for… insurance."

"Squib?" Willow queried in confusion.

"Magical ancestry, but no power," Credence explained hurriedly, not taking his eyes off the wizard before him.

"Credence," Grindlewald gained the man's attention, "I don't think you realise how important you are. I told you of my visions, back in New York, yes?"

"The ones about the powerful obscurial you were trying to find?" Credence nodded. "I thought you were just saying those things-"

"To find you?" Gellert shook his head. "No, Credence. I only told you what you needed to know in order to find, what I thought would be, a child." He smiled, marvelling at the man before him. "But it was _you_ , Credence, the whole time."

"Many people, even amongst the wizarding community, don't give much… _credence_ …to the art of divination," Gellert came forward to explain, smirking. "However, the gift of Sight has always been strong for me. And while it's true, not all prophesies and visions come to pass, for we do, after all have free will," he granted, "when one has a vision, or prophesy, all one has to do is make sure the required people or events fall into place, for the outcome to manifest as it was foretold."

"For I meant what I said at the rally: I have had a vision. And you, Credence," Grindlewald smiled proudly. "You were at the _very centre_ of that vision. My dream becomes a reality, because of _you_."

Grindlewald continued to approach slowly, arms open, inviting.

"You want acceptance, Credence?" Grindlewald posed. "You want freedom? You want to know who you are? Help me in my cause, and I will give you that," he promised. "You can be all that you are, and more."

~..~..~..~..

"Is this the same spell you did to follow Leta's trail into the catacombs?" Newt asked as Tina scanned the map that had been brought before her as everyone, including Queenie and Jacob, gathered around the table.

"No, not quite," she answered distractedly as she worked her magic. "That spell was to follow where Leta had _already been_. This spell will be to find where Credence is _right now_."

"Have you done this before?" Jacob asked curiously.

"Once," Tina answered shortly, as she completed the last charm over Credence's shirt button. "There. Now, hopefully, it'll-"

Suddenly, the button flew out of her hand to land on a section on the map, glowing a pale blue.

"There he is," Tina smiled in relief. "He's still in Paris."

Delacroix noted the location.

"He's in one of the catacombs in the ossuary," she announced.

"Let's go," Graves ordered.

"There aren't many of us left," Delacroix admitted, for Cousteau's team were still dealing with the dementors as they continued to travel. And after the attack on Paris, many of the aurors were still out, helping to obliviate members of the public. In addition, if that weren't enough to cut their numbers, of those who were not working, there were at least a dozen that had to be sent to the hospital for treatment.

And all of them had barely slept since the rally last night, and were still recovering from the dementor attack themselves…

"Then we gather those who are left," Theseus stated with resolve. "This could be our chance to finally capture Grindlewald. Together." He glanced at Graves. "It may not be how we planned, but Credence has indeed led us to him."

"Then let's not waste the opportunity," Graves was determined this time.

Theseus nodded his agreement.

He didn't like to lose.

~..~..~..~..

"Do you think you can truly be accepted by them, Credence?" Grindlewald asked, pointing upwards to indicate the people living in the streets above.

"Do you think _everyone_ has to accept you, to have true acceptance?" Willow countered, stepping forward to stand between Credence and Grindlewald. "Credence has me, he has his friends, he has his teachers… _we_ accept him."

"And you think you're enough?" Grindlewald asked patronisingly. "How _sweet_. But we both know, Credence, that those aurors will lock you up or kill you the moment they feel threatened by your power."

Grindlewald became suddenly curious as he regarded the obscurial before him.

"Has she seen your power, yet, Credence?" He asked, gesturing to Willow. "Has this girl, who claims to love all of who you are, actually seen all you can do?"

Credence swallowed, but his silence was enough.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" Grindlewald smiled widely, opening his arms in invitation.

"Come along, then, Credence," he encouraged. "Shall we test your lady's love?"

Credence felt himself tense as the obscurus shifted in his chest. If he released his obscurus this close to Willow…

"Come now, Credence, what are you afraid of?" Grindlewald goaded. "If she truly accepts you, you have nothing to fear. Believe me, my friend," he continued. "It is important to be honest with those you love, for them to truly love you in return. No one," he added, "can truly love a lie."

"Willow," Credence turned Willow towards him to implore her, "I need you to run."

"Not without you," she hissed back, gripping his hand in both her own.

"Perhaps some motivation, then?" Grindlewald asked before drawing his wand.

~..~..~..~..

Graves, Delacroix, Theseus, Newt, Tina, and as many who were recovered enough from the dementors, apparated near the new entrance to the ossuary.

"Set up a perimeter," Delacroix ordered her aurors, signalling Auror Bovary to take charge in Cousteau's absence.

"Hopefully it's better than the last one," Newt muttered.

"Let's add to it, then," Theseus gestured to those who remained of his team.

"Can someone remind me why these two are here?" Graves gestured to Queenie and Jacob.

"Believe me," Tina spoke up, "I tried to tell them to stay behind."

"You need me, admit it," Queenie said aside to her sister. "I'll be okay, Teenie."

"Queenie's skills in legilimancy could prove useful," Newt answered Graves' question. "After all, we know Grindlewald is here, but not his exact location in the tunnels."

"And I'm not leaving my wife," Jacob added firmly.

"So, let's go," Tina nodded towards the entrance and hurried down.

~..~..~..~..

"Do you know how to duel, Credence?" Grindlewald asked curiously.

Credence felt his breathing increase and tried to swallow his rising panic.

His obscurus shifted in his chest, responding to his fear, and Credence tried to remember Professor Imamu's lessons to help him calm down.

"First, we bow," Gellert explained as he swept his arms dramatically, bending at the waist.

Credence stood still, one arm around Willow as she gripped him tightly. He wasn't going to play his game.

"Come now, Credence, I want to see what you've learned so far," Grindlewald encouraged as he smiled in anticipation.

Credence slowly placed a hand on his wand, the obsidian handle was cool and smooth to the touch, considering his options.

He'd never been taught how to duel. To be perfectly honest, Credence hated fighting of any kind. True, he'd been learning various defensive spells in his classes with Dumbledore and Imamu, but still, he knew nothing he'd learned would help him do anything against someone like Grindlewald.

Still, this was the man who had lied to him, taken advantage of him, wanted to use him as a weapon, had tried to hurt his friends on more than one occasion, released dementors onto a city of innocent people and had just kidnapped Willow as 'insurance.'

Credence felt his obscurus writhe in his chest, eager to be let loose.

' _No,'_ he told the monster within him. _'Not yet._ '

"Credence," Willow whispered to him. "Don't. Let's just leave. It's okay to run away."

"He won't let us run away," Credence reminded her quietly, warring with his own desire to flee. "A wizard can stop someone running with a flick of their wrist. And this one is very powerful. He'll stop us before we even reach the door."

' _I just have to buy time,_ ' Credence thought to himself. Hopefully, by now, someone found the button he left on the office floor and have started to track him down, like Tina tracked down Leta…

"Let Willow leave safely," he put forward, trying to bargain. "And I'll duel you."

"Of course not," Grindlewald chuckled, shaking his head. "I didn't bring her here simply to let her go. She's the one I want you showing off for. But rest assured, Credence," he added, "she will not get a single scratch on her, by my hand."

He smirked again and Credence felt his obscurus writhe in his chest once more.

' _Not a scratch by his hand?_ ' Credence wondered at the choice of words. _'Could that mean he expects someone else to-"_

Credence felt himself still as he felt he felt he realised what the wizard was up to…

Grindlewald wanted the obscurus to kill Willow.

Credence clenched his jaw as he wrapped his free arm more tightly around the young woman at his side, drawing his wand with his other hand.

He wouldn't release the obscurus near Willow, he determined. He'd prove his control.

"That's it," Grindlewald grinned before stilling. "And just in time too. We're about to have an audience."

~..~..~..~..

"He knows we're here," Queenie announced as the group continued to hurry through the tunnels. "He heard my mind."

"How much farther?" Theseus asked.

"Not much," Queenie answered, a slight tremble in her voice, before turning determinedly down another corridor.

"This way," she called over her shoulder.

~..~..~..~..

Grindlewald turned as the group entered the room, fanning out along the walls.

"My friends," he greeted, completely unfazed at the intrusion. "Welcome. I see you've lost some of your number. Do you think you're enough to stop me?"

"You have attacked my city," Delacroix said coolly. "And it is time you pay for your crimes against the world, _Monsieur_ Grindlewald."

Grindlewald chuckled.

"I hardly think fighting for the freedom of wizard-kind is a crime, Auror Delacroix."

Taking advantage of the distraction, Credence hurried himself and Willow to one side of the room.

"Credence, it's okay," Tina called out to him in assurance, wand drawn. "Are you hurt?"

Credence shook his head in the negative.

Grindlewald turned on the spot, making a sweeping motion with his wand, causing blue fire to flare up along the walls, and cutting off their escape.

"Still think it's okay?" Jacob asked warily as he pulled Queenie close to himself. She'd done her part, now he had to make sure his wife stayed out of the fight. He tried to stay as far away from Grindlewald as he could, without going near the strange blue flames, which were giving off such a strong heat, he was already feeling lightheaded, beads of sweat were trickling down his face.

Newt found himself wishing he hadn't decided to leave his case at the French Ministry. He hadn't wanted to risk the safety of his creatures, but now, realising they now had two muggles in the room made him think his case would have been the safest place for them to be.

' _Well, not much to be done about it now,_ ' he told himself. _'We'll think of something._ '

Graves clenched his jaw as he stared down at Grindlewald.

"You took months of my life," he hissed.

"Yes, I rather enjoyed my time at MACUSA," Grindlewald smirked at the obvious rise his mere presence was causing in the American auror.

"It was so easy being you," he continued. "The power, the authority… I could access or order anything I wanted, and no one would blink an eye."

Grindlewald's gaze drifted over to Newt and Tina.

"If only you two had died when you were supposed to," he mused. "I'd still be there."

"I'll be happy to take you back in chains," Graves swore as he raised his wand.

Theseus stood, staring down at the man responsible for the dementors loose in Paris.

 _He could still hear the scream of that muggle man he'd seen fall to his death when he'd jumped off the Eiffel tower in despair from the dementor's horrible power…_

This man, who had tried to unhinge the very laws he held dear, keeping peace between the magical and non-magical worlds…

And the man who had tried to sentence his little brother to death…

"Let's take him," he said eagerly.

Smirking, Grindlewald made another sweeping motion with his wand, and more blue flames shot up, surrounding himself, climbing up to the ceiling before condensing together to form the shape of-

"Oh wow," despite being terrified, Willow couldn't help being awestruck, "it's a _dragon_."

"Fiendfyre!" Theseus called out in warning, but too late.

Grindlewald launched the dragon-fire towards the aurors, who, despite throwing spells, were forced to scramble as the flames burst against the stone floor, sending cracks splintering outward, before the flames began reforming.

The fire around the edges of the room began to shift and twist until several more Fiendfyre dragons had formed.

"Jacob," Queenie drew her own wand, preparing herself, "stay by me, Sweetie."

Spells began flying as the flame-beasts ripped through the ranks, the roar of the fire sounding almost beast-like as they targeted the various people in the room. Tina had to intervene to save Jacob when he got separated from Queenie in the chaos, before Queenie deflected a ricocheting spell as it careened towards her sister.

Grindlewald simply stood calmly in the centre of the room, manipulating his Fiendfyre dragons as though he were conducting an orchestra.

The heat from the flames was intense, and Newt found himself struggling to breathe as he blocked ricocheting spells, dodging fire he raced towards Credence, who appeared to be trying to protect Willow and prevent his obscurus from bursting forth at the same time.

He appeared to be struggling with the effort.

"Credence!" Newt gasped as he finally reached him. "Are you alright?"

Credence couldn't answer as black vapour began to emanate from him.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" Newt muttered before turning to the young woman who seemed as if she were going into shock, staring numbly out at the battle that was taking place around her.

"You must be Willow," Newt nodded to her. "Newt Scamander. Now, let's get you out of here, shall we?"

The three of them had to hit the floor as a large Fiendfyre dragon roared over their heads, smashing into the wall nearby, the flames bursting along the wall to reveal an auror, who's agonised screams seemed endless as the fire continued to engulf them as they slid to the floor.

Newt tried to put out the flames, to no avail, and Willow covered her mouth in horror as the screams suddenly stopped.

"So, how do we get out of here?" Credence gritted out between his teeth, drawing Newt's attention.

"We'll think of something," Newt assured him, trying not to gag at the smell of burnt flesh, but Credence shook his head, getting to his feet, pulling Willow up with him.

"Already thought of something," he said resignedly, turning to Willow.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this," he told her.

"It's okay," Willow answered automatically, her wide eyes on the black vapour now pouring from him as his eyes began to turn white.

Credence turned to Newt.

"We'll work with you, this time," Newt told him, nodding his understanding before Credence even opened his mouth.

Gathering his courage, Credence stepped closer to the battle as he felt his obscurus rise closer to the surface.

The Fiendfyre dragon had finished its meal of the poor auror, and was now rising like a serpent before Credence, who stared up at it for a moment, before turning to rest his eyes instead on the man standing calmly in the centre of the room.

' _You want them to see me?_ ' He thought, his eyes never leaving Grindlewald as he stood within his circle of flames, orchestrating his creatures of death.

Gellert barely had time to put a shield up as the obscurus burst from Credence's body, flying directly at him.

Theseus had to press himself against the floor as the obscurus swept over his head, flashes of light shone through the whirl of black, showing Grindlewald fighting back.

The swirling vortex that was the obscurus was like an indoor hurricane as black vapour and Fiendfyre whipped around the room, tearing apart the scorched masonry that hadn't already been damaged in the battle.

"Queenie, Jacob, take Willow and get out of here," Newt hurried Willow over to his friends before re-joining Tina and the aurors.

"Credence will be okay, Honey," Queenie whispered to Willow as she took up the young woman's hand.

An ominous rumble filled the room and soon, the ceiling was blown outwards and upwards as Credence and Grindlewald's conflicting powers reached their peak.

The power of the conflicting magical forces was enough to cause something of a vacuum and many people were sucked out through the hole in the ceiling.

Newt felt himself flying through the air before landing hard.

Body aching, he slowly got to his feet to see that he was lying at the edge of a large crater.

"Newt!"

Theseus came running up to his brother in concern as people slowly began getting to their feet, though others appeared unconscious.

Graves cast his eyes over their group. Already exhausted and low in numbers, several aurors had been killed by the Fiendfyre, while others were unconscious from the blast.

There were only a handful of them left.

He considered ordering a retreat, but he looked up to see Credence in obscurus form still battling Grindlewald, the whirling black vaporous mass like a hurricane over their heads, punctuated only by the flashes of light from spells as Grindlewald fought back the ravenous magical parasite.

Theseus squinted against the wind as he looked up at the whirling mass above him and realised something was missing.

"We have to trap him, the perimeter shield's down," Theseus noted quickly. "Help me!"

Together, Newt, Theseus and Graves quickly gathered any aurors who were still conscious and worked to recast the barrier to prevent Grindlewald from escaping this time, as Credence, in his obscurus form, raged through the graveyard atop of the ossuary tunnels.

Queenie pulled Jacob and Willow close to a stone pillar as the wind whipped above their heads.

Willow felt tears trailing down her cheeks as she stared upward.

"That's Credence?" She gasped. "That _thing's_ been growing inside him his whole life?"

"Yeah," Queenie stroked the young woman's hair consolingly. "It's called an obscurus. And it could still kill him, one day."

" _What_?" Willow's voice went up an octave. Credence hadn't told her _that_.

"He's got more control over it," Queenie granted, "but that doesn't mean it's stopped doing what it does best."

' _No_ ,' was the only thought Willow was capable of, as grief began to fill her heart at the thought.

Credence couldn't die. He couldn't. Surely, after all he's been through, he deserves to have a _life_.

Looking up, Willow watched the other wizards working together to strengthen a bubble of magic around the area, acting like a cage to try and keep the battle between Credence and Grindlewald from heading out over… where was she?

Willow looked around, and then her ears caught a snatch of French as a blond woman gestured to two men, apparently giving an order, and Willow felt her jaw drop.

Was she in _France_?

"Get down!"

A woman with dark hair pushed her to the ground as a burst of light shot from the end of her wand, just in time to deflect, what Willow could only assume was, a magical attack that had been shooting right at them.

"You three need to get out of here," the woman hissed.

"We can't go anywhere with the barrier up, Tina," Queenie reminded her and Tina struggled not to roll her eyes. By trying to keep Grindlewald in, they'd trapped everyone else as well.

Willow jumped as the whirling black entity slammed into the ground, spiralling and condensing until Credence reappeared, the black vapour being drawn into his body reminding her strangely of her visualisation from earlier.

' _In with Love, out with Fear_ ,' her affirmation reverberated around her mind, and something clicked in her head.

' _It's Fear_ ,' she thought. ' _That's what his obscurus is: it's Fear.'_

Credence stood, shaking with exertion, for he'd never allowed his obscurus so much freedom before, and it was draining…

"Oh, no," Queenie gasped.

"What?" Willow asked.

"Credence is dying," she said.

" _What?"_ Tina yelped.

"Don't talk to me now," Queenie ordered as she focused on Credence's mind, trying to figure out how to help him.

Grindlewald stood up slowly, not far from where Credence landed. It had taken all of his skill and power to avoid death by the obscurus, thought the fact he knew what to expect gave him an edge.

Grindlewald tried to stand tall, however, despite the fact he was as exhausted as Credence.

"Oh, Credence, why must we fight?" He asked the young man, who looked about to faint. "You and I could achieve so much together."

"I may not yet know who I am," Credence admitted shakily. "But I know who I'm not. And I am _not_ like you."

"Mr Grindlewald."

Grindlewald turned as Graves, Theseus, Delacroix, Tina, Newt, and the few aurors who were still conscious and standing pointed their wands at the wanted wizard.

"You are under arrest."

Grindlewald laughed.

"I don't think so," he countered

Credence suddenly fell to his knees, clutching his chest.

"Willow, no!" Tina tried, but couldn't grab the woman before she ran to Credence's side and tried to help him to his feet.

"Willow?" Credence asked dazedly.

"I'm here, Credence," she assured him, glaring at Grindlewald. "I see you, and accept you. You can't scare me away so easily."

Grindlewald raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Interesting," he muttered.

"What?" Willow put forward. "You thought I'd run away screaming?"

"That would be the normal reaction," Gellert had to admit.

"Whoever told you I was _normal_?" Willow asked. "Frankly, I find that offensive."

"Aurors, take aim," Thesesus ordered his group.

"Wait," Newt held up a hand.

"Why?" Theseus asked and Newt simply pointed to Credence, concerned as Credence continued to clutch his chest.

"Credence," Newt called as he began to approach slowly. "Are you alright?"

"Stay back!" Credence called, feeling the obscurus twist and writhe violently in his chest.

He fell to his knees once more as he doubled over, causing Willow to fall with him.

"Credence, it's okay," she told him. "I'm here. I'm not leaving."

"You should," Credence met her eyes and Willow was shocked by the intensity of the fear in his dark eyes.

"No," Willow stated surely.

' _In with Love, out with Fear,'_ she told herself.

"I don't want to hurt you," Credence told her.

"You won't," she assured him. "I'll find a way to help you."

"Would you like to know what my vision was, Credence?" Grindlewald asked as he stepped forward.

"Visions are much like dreams, they need to sometimes be interpreted," He explained. "It was my vision that caused me to go to America. For I saw your mother there, and this great power that existed near her. An obscurial. You."

Credence felt a tightness in his chest as he looked up at the man before him. He could tell Grindlewald was as exhausted as he was. It was no mean effort to resist the destructive force of his obscurus. But still, Grindlewald didn't have a magical parasite draining him of life…

"I saw this obscurial showcasing it's power, not only New York, but also here in Paris. And other places around the world," the man grinned.

"So, you don't have to worry Credence, you're not going to die just yet," Grindlewald said in a way that Willow assumed was intended to be reassuring. "For you and I have so much work to do."

" _No_ ," Credence hissed.

Willow, on the other hand, became curious.

"You said the vision showed his power in Paris?" She queried, gesturing to the havoc around them. "Does this match your vision?"

Grindlewald rolled his eyes at being asked such a question by a no-maj, of all people, but still, he cast his eyes around at the aurors still pointing their wands at him.

He'd forgotten about them…

With a flick of his wrist, all the wands went flying out of their owner's hands to collect in a pile at his feet.

Graves tried to use wandless magic to retrieve them, but Grindlewald deflected the spell easily, causing the wands to be scattered over the rubble, some falling into the large crater, before sending another spell, blasting Graves backwards to land on the uneven ground, unconscious.

"Anyone else?" Grindlewald invited.

However, none of the others were powerful enough to perform wandless magic well enough to take down Grindlewald. And could they even find their wands amongst the rubble before Grindlewald blasted them as well?

Theseus' mind began racing. What to do now?

"Yes," Grindlewald answered Willow's question mildly. "This seems very close."

"What's missing?" She asked.

"It's not 'what's missing,'" Grindlewald told her patronisingly. "It's 'what's unexpected'? I had only seen the obscurial's power, not what they looked like, and so assumed it was a child. I hadn't expected it to be Credence."

"So, what's 'unexpected'?" Willow pressed.

Grindlewald frowned.

"You, actually, Miss Arden," Grindlewald answered. "Though, I doubt that is of much consequence."

Credence fell to the ground completely, convulsing as if he were having a seizure.

"Credence?" Willow tried to help him as black vapour began to pour out of him.

"Stop it!" Queenie suddenly shrieked, clutching her head in agony. "Stop it, please!"

"Stay back," Grindlewald sent a spell flying at Newt and Tina as they made to rush forward, blasting them backward.

"Queenie?" Jacob tried to console his wife as she huddled against him, gripping her head and breathing shakily.

Tina struggled to her feet, nursing her head, before rushing to her sister's side. The legilimens had regained control and was now gripping Jacob's arm tightly as she clenched her eyes shut, the better to stay focused.

"Come on," she gasped through her efforts to concentrate. "Come on, Credence, let me _help_."

Slowly, slowly, Credence stilled, and slowly, slowly, the black vapour was drawn back into him. Willow was quick to check his pulse.

"He's still alive," she reported, to Newt's great relief.

Queenie slumped into her husband's arms, trembling, and Tina was quick to help him lay her gently on the ground.

"Well done, Queenie," Tina told her sister quietly. "You did great. He's okay."

"Yes, well done, Mrs Kowalski," Grindlewald congratulated the woman's efforts with what appeared to be genuine praise.

"Now, Miss Arden," Grindlewald turned back to Willow as she knelt on the ground beside Credence.

"I need you to step aside now."

"No!" Willow covered Credence's unconscious form with her own, doing her best to shield him.

Grindlewald sneered at the effort.

"Step aside, silly girl," he told her as he approached calmly. "I don't want to kill you."

"Why not?" Willow challenged. "I'm not a wizard. What do you care?"

"Oh, I don't," the man assured her. "But Credence does." He smiled, almost hungrily as he stared at the man lying on the ground. "He's become more powerful than I could have imagined. But, if he's going to join me, I can't exactly kill the woman he loves, now, can I?" Grindlewald regarded Willow for a moment, apparently finding her lacking. "No matter how misguided his affections are."

Willow chuckled humourlessly, holding Credence closer to her.

"You arrogant... manipulative… monster!" She spat. "Hasn't he been through enough? He has suffered so much already-"

"I know he has," Grindlewald nodded. "And it is, indeed, a tragedy that one such as our Credence, has been treated so badly." He gestured to the young man lying on the ground as he came to crouch down in front of Willow.

"All I'm trying to do," he informed Willow gently, "Is give him the opportunity to fight back."

"No," Willow hissed. "You just want him to kill for you."

"Oh, you'll find I'm more than capable of doing my own killing, my dear," Grindlewald's voice was like poisoned honey as he reached out to grip her chin in one hand.

"But if you want to overthrow the current world order," he continued, "you need more than just followers. You need an army. And Credence," he smiled, his cold eyes trailing from Willow's face to Credence's, "he is worth a thousand. He will be a lightning rod, drawing wizards to my cause. And he will ensure my victory."

"You're not having him," Willow hissed.

"And what power do you have that can stop me?" Grindlewald mocked.

"Grindlewald, please," Newt stepped forward once more. He was wandless, true, but he couldn't just stand there and watch. He just couldn't. "Leave her," he implored. "She's important to Credence. You said it yourself," he thought quickly. "there is no way you could convince Credence to join you if you kill the woman he loves."

Grindlewald stood up, never taking his eyes off Willow, considering.

"But if she remains," he countered. "She will be like a chain, pinning him to her side."

He pointed his wand point blank in her direction.

Willow felt a strange calm envelop her as she took her gaze off Grindlewald to instead study Credence.

He looked so peaceful, she noted affectionately, trailing her fingers along his cheek. Willow was so proud of him. Truly he was stronger than she had imagined, to break free from everything ingrained in him, to walk his own path.

So, if he was to be the last thing she would see, before Grindlewald took her life, Willow could surely endeavour to be as brave as Credence.

She raised her eyes back up to face Grindlewald once more.

"I will not leave him," she told the man, tears welling in her eyes as an emotion she couldn't name filled her to bursting point. "I accept him, for all that he is. He deserves his own life and you will _never_ have him!"

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

"No!" Newt and Tina cried out as green light lanced towards Willow.

But without their wands, they could do nothing.

Jacob covered his mouth to stifle a sob as Willow's body collapsed.

"Grindlewald-" Delacroix began.

Grindlewald cast a spell in her direction, sending her flying backwards.

"What can you do?" He asked the remaining wizards gathered. "You, who claim that the non-magic are worth saving? What can you really do, to protect such weak, defenceless, unworthy creatures?"

He gestured to Willow's lifeless body, still draped protectively over Credence.

Newt felt tears streaming down his face as Tina covered her mouth in horror. Jacob simply held his unconscious wife closer to him, shaking.

' _That poor girl… and what will Credence do when he finds out she's gone?_ ' He thought.

Grindlewald used his wand to dismantle the barrier spell the aurors had put up.

"You will never be able to hold me," he announced with surety as he kicked Willow's body aside carelessly.

"Don't touch her!" Tina snarled.

"And what will you do?" Grindlewald asked. "Why would you defend her? She is _nothing_. Yet, Credence," he gestured to the man lying on the ground. "He has so much potential. And I hate to see it go to waste."

Grindlewald crouched down and gripped Credence's hand, preparing to apparate.

"No!" Newt, Tina and Theseus rushed forward.

But they had barely gone five steps when Grindlewald recoiled, screaming in pain.

Newt stared as Grindlewald's pale skin began to blister before his very eyes, as if he were being horribly burned.

Panting with pain, Grindlewald, for the first time, appeared completely shocked before he quickly made to grab Credence with his other hand, only to howl in agony once again.

" _What is this?"_ Grindlewald stared, aghast, at his burnt and blistered hands, barely able to hold his wand, now. "This isn't the obscurus."

"No," Newt's scientific mind was racing.

"I think... I think it's _Willow_ ," he announced, for he was sure there could be no other explanation.

"What?" Tina asked, completely confused.

"She died to protect Credence," Newt reminded them all and comprehension began to dawn in Grindlewald's eyes.

"Oh, Willow, you _extraordinary_ woman. You see Grindlewald?" Newt gestured to the man's blistered hands. "This woman is _proof_ , that you are wrong: Muggles are not _lesser_. Not disposable. In fact," he began to smile, "this woman has proven an understanding of a magic you will _never_ fully comprehend."

"What?" Theseus asked, none the wiser. "How could a muggle perform a protection spell like _that_?"

"Emotions are the root of most forms of magic," Newt recalled the lessons Credence spent with Professor Imamu. "Especially ancient magic."

"How could she protect him from me?" Gellert pointed at Willow dismissively with a blistered-covered hand, but still, doubts were beginning to enter his mind.

"Because," Newt answered surely, "you don't have to be a wizard to be capable of love."

Newt gestured to Credence's prone form.

"You can't have Credence, Grindlewald," Newt told him. "You can't even touch him. He's lost to you, now."

Tina began to smile as she stared up at the wizard before her.

"You said Willow was unexpected," she reminded him. "But I guess her presence had more consequence than you thought."

Gellert had a mixture of confusion, shock and pure anger on his face as his eyes moved from Newt, to Tina, to Theseus.

"Don't think this means I'm giving up," he whispered coldly before disapparating.

Theseus made a frustrated yell as Tina and Newt raced over to where Credence lay, Willow's body beside him.

"We've lost him again," Theseus said in exasperation.

"You couldn't have won, Theseus," Newt called over his shoulder as he and Tina carefully arranged Willow's body into a more comfortable position.

Gently, Newt reached out and closed Willow's eyes.

"You truly _extraordinary_ woman," he told her as tears trailed down his face.

"She was so brave," Tina sniffed as she rearranged the woman's clothing and hair until it looked as if she were simply sleeping.

Newt's gaze landed on Credence, who was still unconscious with exhaustion after the battle with Grindlewald and narrowly escaping death by the magical parasite within him.

"Credence can recover in my case," he suggested slowly, feeling completely at a loss as to what to do now.

"How are we going to tell him?" Tina wondered.

"We tell him the truth," Newt answered after a moment. "That Willow died to protect him, and that her sacrifice ensured his safety."

"He'll be heartbroken," Tina whispered.

"Yes, he will be," Newt agreed sadly, his voice barely audible, so deep he was in thought. It wasn't until Tina placed a comforting hand on his shoulder that he seemed to snap out of his reverie.

After a few minutes of searching, Thesesus eventually found his wand half buried in rubble. He used magic to locate and return the rest of the scattered wands to their respective owners before waking Graves, Delacroix and several others from unconsciousness.

And, together, the aurors began rebuilding the site.

Newt and Tina carefully moved Credence and Willow safely out of the way as the aurors worked.

Queenie was still resting with her head on Jacob's lap, and as the ossuary was carefully rebuilt, one by one, the dead from the battle were recovered, and lain down gently beside Willow.

Theseus was not looking forward to writing condolence letters to the next of kin. It was truly the worst part of his job, but he knew it had to be done, so their families could have closure and organise a proper burial.

"What are we going to do about her?" Theseus asked once the work was done, gesturing to Willow's body.

"We need to take her home," Newt stated the obvious. "She needs a proper burial, Theseus."

"I know that," Theseus said slowly. "I meant: what are we going to tell her next of kin? She's a muggle, after all."

Newt hung his head.

"This woman died incredibly bravely and unnecessarily," he announced. "While we can try and uphold the Statute of Secrecy, Theseus, I don't want to have her bravery go unrecognised."

Theseus took a deep breath before nodding.

"I'll do my best, Newt," he promised.

 **~..~..~..~..**

Credence woke to find himself lying on a cot in Newt's potting shed.

Sitting up slowly, he felt a warm weight pinning his legs to the thin mattress before the air shimmered and Dougal the demiguise became visible.

"Dougal," Credence greeted the creature with a hug. "What are you doing here?"

Dougal wrapped his long arms around Credence's waist as the young man looked around, and realised he was alone in the small room.

Carefully, Credence made to stand up just as the potting shed door opened and Queenie rushed in to pull him into a warm hug, Dougal moving to sit further up the bed.

"Oh, Credence, Sweetie, I'm so glad you're finally awake!" The woman held him tightly and Credence sank into her compassionate embrace. "You've slept most of the day. How are you feeling?" She asked in concern.

"Alive," he answered simply. "What happened? Where's Grindlewald? Where's Willow? Is she okay?"

Queenie's expression became sympathetic.

"It's a long story, Honey," she said slowly, wrapping one arm around him. "You'd better come outside."

~..~..~..~..

Newt, Tina and Jacob were trying to wrangle all the nifflers. Newt's original niffler had been horrified to discover so many of his treasures had been stolen from his nest, and, despite Newt creating separate nests for the new nifflers in an effort to stop any altercations, it didn't stop them from continually stealing from each other.

The disputes were already becoming a constant.

"For the hundredth time," Newt told the squirming mammal in his hands, "if you'd just stay in your own home, with your share, there wouldn't be an argument."

Newt placed the niffler carefully back in his nest, this one being near Dougal's tree, and sighed, placing his hands on his hips.

"Hey," a voice called and Newt turned to see Queenie and Credence emerge from the potting shed.

"Look who's awake," Queenie announced.

"Credence," Tina rushed forward to give the man a hug. "That was a really brave thing you did," she told him fondly, stroking his hair.

"You gave us a real scare, Credence," Jacob added, shaking his hand heartily. "Glad you're okay, pal."

Credence cast his eyes around the group.

"Where's Willow?" He asked.

The others glanced at each other warily.

"She had to be taken home," Newt answered, figuring a half-truth would work until they could tell the whole story. "She's a muggle after all, she couldn't stay."

Credence frowned.

"Grindlewald escaped," Queenie spoke up quickly, ushering Credence to a seat.

"We're at Hogwarts now," Newt added. "Dumbledore and Imamu wanted to speak with you. Speaking of which," he added, moving off. "I should tell them you're awake."

"I know you must be wondering what happened, Credence," Tina came to sit on Credence' other side. "But we'll wait until Professor Dumbledore and Professor Imamu get here, that way we only have to tell the story once."

Credence nodded.

"How are you feeling, Credence?" Tina asked in concern. "You just… _collapsed_."

"I felt the obscurus," Credence began slowly, casting his mind back. "It was moving so violently, and I was exhausted." Frowning, Credence raised a hand to his chest.

Queenie frowned as well, concentrating.

"Well, isn't that something," she commented pensively.

"What?" Jacob and Tina asked in unison.

Queenie was saved from answering, however, as Newt led Dumbledore and Imamu out of the shed.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're alright," Imamu came forward and hugged Credence warmly.

"I heard you were very brave, Credence," Dumbledore grasped the man's shoulder before giving a hug as well.

"You will have to be brave one more time, I feel," he whispered in his ear.

"Now, each of us has only a part of the story," Newt began. "Time for all of us to be on the same page. Credence, why don't you start? How did Grindlewald get you away from the Ministry?"

So, Credence took a breath and explained how Grindlewald had once more taken the guise of Mr Graves to enter the office, claim the necklace and disapparate them both to the ossuary. He'd found Willow, and Grindlewald had tried to encourage him to join before inviting him to duel in an effort to make the obscurus reveal itself, scare Willow away, and prove to Credence that he'll never be accepted for who he is.

"What about you?" He prompted.

Tina quickly took up the narrative, explaining how she'd found the button Credence had left behind - he smiled, glad his idea had worked – and how Queenie's Legilimancy allowed them to locate Grindlewald within the multitude of tunnels.

"Then the battle started," Newt jumped in, explaining for Dumbledore and Imamu's sake how Grindlewald had created Fiendfyre and Credence had finally released his obscurus to attack Grindlewald.

"And Grindlewald survived that?" Imamu asked in surprise.

"He knows more about obscurials than most," Dumbledore granted. "And he is a highly skilled and powerful wizard, who knew what to expect."

"I almost died," Credence confessed, recalling how he'd felt the obscurus twisting in his chest.

"Yeah, it was like you were having a fit or something," Jacob spoke up. "But then Queenie…"

"Yes," Credence turned to the woman. "You were in my head."

"I was trying to help you calm down, is all," the legilimens said modestly. "Trying to find something in you that was stronger than the obscurus, to keep you alive." She smiled.

"I found something," she nodded surely, wrapping an arm around him again.

"What?' Credence asked curiously, for he couldn't remember much of what happened.

As tired as Queenie was, her smile still managed to glow with warmth.

"Love, of course," she answered gently. "What else could be worth living for?"

Tina watched a smile tug at the young man's mouth and she felt tears beginning to well in her eyes as she knew what had to come next.

"And, what happened after I blacked out?" Credence asked. "Why didn't Grindlewald take me? How did he get away?"

"Grindlewald got away, because he broke the barrier spell the aurors had put up, and disarmed all of us who were still standing, so we couldn't fight back," Newt summed up. "As to why he didn't take you with him, well…" he felt his chest become heavy. "That's…" he couldn't even finish the sentence.

Credence felt Tina and Queenie hold him more tightly, and he started to feel dread creeping into his heart.

"What?" He asked, not liking the looks his friends were giving each other. " _Please_ tell me the truth."

Newt took a deep breath, and told of how Willow had stood up to Grindlewald, refusing to leave Credence's side, telling Grindlewald she accepted Credence for all he was and she would never leave him.

"Then Grindlewald simply pointed his wand at her, point blank, and…" Unable to finish speaking, Newt wiped at his eyes before finally gaining the courage to look his young friend in the eye.

"I'm so sorry Credence," he said sincerely. "She's gone."

Credence's expression was blank with shock.

A few moments passed of complete silence that no one was brave enough to break, as Credence tried to absorb the realisation.

"Willow's… _Dead_?" He asked, having to choke out the word.

"She gave her life to protect you," Newt told him, wanting to make sure he understood that. "She was _extraordinarily_ brave. She wouldn't leave your side."

"And then, when Grindlewald tried to take you away," Tina added, placing a hand on Credence's own. "He couldn't even touch you."

"What's this?" Imamu asked in wonder as Dumbledore, too, became more alert.

"Grindlewald couldn't touch him," Newt reiterated. "His hands became blistered, as if he'd been horribly burned. I've never heard of anything like it, but I'm fairly certain it had something to do with Willow giving her life."

"Batini?" Albus turned to his colleague, hopeful for an explanation. "Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

The woman appeared to be about to cry as she slowly nodded, placing her hands on her heart reverently.

" _Upendo wa Ulinzi mwisho_ ," Professor Imamu spoke with wonder, stepping forward to grasp Credence's hands with her own, crouching so as to look up into his grief-filled eyes, gaining his full attention. " _Love's ultimate protection_ ," she translated.

"What is that, exactly?" Newt asked, his curiosity piqued.

Batini let out a breath of astonishment.

"Most of wizard-kind believe there is no way to block the Avada Kadavra curse," she began as tears began to well in her eyes. "But there is _one_ way."

"Emotion is the root of magic," Professor Imamu reminded Credence. "Especially _ancient_ magic. And Love, my precious boy, is the most powerful form of ancient magic that exists. And you don't have to be born of wizard-kind to be capable of such powerful love, no," she reached out to cup the man's face tearfully. "You only need a powerful heart, and Credence: your Willow was clearly a woman with such a heart."

Tears were flowing down the professor's face as she continued to speak directly to Credence.

"She loved you so much she was willing to give her life to save you from Grindlewald," she told him. "Her love, her _life_ , now exists in your very skin, protecting you from him until you die. Grindlewald will no longer be able to touch you. He will no longer be able to harm you in any way. Even if he tries to cast a killing curse on you, his spell will backfire, and _he_ will be the one who dies."

Credence was crying now, his body beginning to shake.

"Willow, she…she _loved_ me?" He asked, his voice breaking.

"And her love is still with you Credence," Batini nodded surely. "Now and always, her love will protect you from Grindlewald. He will never be able to touch you, or use magic to hurt you, ever again. This, is _Love's ultimate protection_ : Because it requires the ultimate sacrifice."

This was too much for Credence to take, and he broke down completely, sobbing onto the woman's shoulder in a strange mixture of happiness and grief. Happiness, for realising he'd finally had the love he'd always craved. And grief, for the love he'd lost far too soon.

It was some time before Credence's appeared to have wept all the tears he could, and was left completely spent, trembling as he gulped in one shaky lungful of air after another.

A shimmer appeared beside him and Dougal the demiguise materialised, his large expressive eyes seeming to show understanding as Credence gratefully wrapped him up in his arms like a teddy bear, stroking the creature's soft, silky fur.

"I must say, Credence," Dumbledore began after a moment's silence as the group allowed themselves time to wipe their own eyes. "I'm very impressed about the level of control you now have over your obscurus."

Credence frowned, bringing his hand to his chest, where he usually could feel the obscurus shifting with his emotions.

However, Credence felt a strange… _emptiness_ where the obscurus had once been. For a moment, he simply assumed it was his grief, but as he continued to explore…

"It's _gone_ ," he announced, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" Newt yelped.

"It's gone," Credence's eyes began to fill with tears again, this time of pure relief.

"H-how is that possible?" Tina asked, dumbfounded.

"I might have an idea," Queenie raised a hand slowly and all eyes turned on her.

"During the battle, Willow was trying to keep herself calm by saying something in her mind, over and over. An 'affirmation', she called it." Queenie explained. "She was saying 'In with Love, out with Fear.'"

"An obscurus is created when a witch or wizard supresses their magic, often due to a fear of persecution or punishment," Imamu mused, nodding.

"You think Willow's love-protection spell saved Credence from his obscurus as well as from Grindlewald?" Dumbledore queried.

"Yeah," Queenie nodded. "Like, maybe, when Willow's love-protection spell entered Credence, it pushed the obscurus out, 'cause the two different types of magic are total opposites: one fearful and draining, the other loving and protective. They couldn't be together in the same body."

"So, where did the obscurus go?" Newt wondered, recalling the dormant obscurus he still held contained in a protective bubble within his case and wondered if there was now a disembodied obscurus drifting throughout the ossuary in Paris. "It couldn't simply _disappear_."

Queenie shrugged.

"No idea," she confessed. "Like I said: it's just an idea."

"Professor Imamu, Dumbledore," Newt invited, "any other ideas?"

"Unfortunately, no, my friend," Dumbledore confessed, his mind far away.

"Credence is unprecedented," Batini reminded them all. "As is this."

"Where's Willow?" Credence brought the conversation back to something he found more important.

"As I said, she'd been sent home," Newt told him. "Theseus has made up a cover story, to explain her sudden death to the muggle authorities."

"Grindlewald said he wouldn't hurt her," Credence said quietly, a bitter note to his voice.

"Well, from his twisted perspective, perhaps he thinks he kept that promise," Batini granted slowly. "The killing curse takes the life from its victim without leaving a mark."

"Which is why Theseus doesn't want muggle authorities trying to investigate her death," Newt explained. "Her funeral is tomorrow, I believe. It'll be a simple affair. Apparently, Willow doesn't have many close relatives…"

"I want to go," Credence announced determinedly.

"Of course," Tina agreed. "We'll go with you."

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _This was, quite possibly, the most difficult chapter to write._

 _This was an idea that I had from the very beginning of writing this story: If love was the most powerful form of protective magic, and you didn't have to be a wizard to be capable of love, could a muggle or squib still be capable of performing the sacrificial love-protection spell that Lily Potter is most famous for?_

 _Please, please don't think I wrote Willow dying carelessly. I had wanted her to remain alive. In fact, I had written a version in which Credence and Willow had both been unwilling to leave the other, and so they essentially place a protection spell on each other, ensuring they both survived. I had planned on Credence sharing more of the wizarding world with her, even sneaking her into Diagon Alley and Newt giving her a kneazle kitten…all sorts of ideas._

 _However, I didn't think it was possible for a person to place such a protection spell on a loved one without giving up their life, in J.K. Rowling 's wizarding world._

 _I had wanted to write Willow giving Credence the protection spell, because, as I said, I felt it could be possible for a non-wizard to do so, but also, I remember wondering how Dumbledore knew how Harry survived Voldemort's attack as a baby and wondered…had he seen something like it before?_

 _I knew Dumbledore had studied ancient magic during his search for the Hallows with Grindlewald, but figured Batini imamu would have a better idea of how the spell occurred, as ancient magic is something taught to African wizards. The Swahili, I got from simply Googling 'Love's ultimate protection in Swahili' so I hope I got it right. If anyone who knows Swahili would like to correct me, please do, as I always try to be as authentic as I can._

 _Also, I let Grindlewald escape as I knew he couldn't be defeated until 1945 when Dumbledore finally faces him. And if it just ended with Grindlewald getting captured, like in the first movie, I figured it would just seem repetitive story telling and I didn't want to do that._

 _Also, I had to remind myself that the aurors had barely slept the previous night after gathering evidence from Grindlewald's rally at the ossuary, were low in numbers, as they were spread out so thinly, trying to protect the whole area from a horde of escaped dementors, had just had to endure an attack of said dementors and were battling bewitched fire that furiously attacked any living thing near it, being controlled by the most powerful wizard of the day, who was fighting fit until an obscurus attacked him blowing a hole in the ossuary ceiling in the process._

 _There was no way the aurors were strong enough to apprehend Grindlewald here._

 _I can imagine Graves being strongly affected by the dementors, after his kidnapping, so I'm sure he would have required more attention in order to recover from the attack, but, being Graves didn't want to stay behind while the others tracked down Grindlewald once again._

 _Now, as for Credence's obscurus…_

 _I had originally thought that Credence's obscurus would be let loose as he grieved for Willow, but then I actually considered the two very different types of magic that both the obscurus and the protection spell had, and so felt that it would also 'cure' Credence of his obscurus._

 _And, even in one of the CoG trailers, I think we see Credence freeing himself of the obsurus, whilst on a rooftop. And even in the first movie, Newt talks about separating the obscurus from the Sudanese girl as he tried to save her. So I think it is possible for an obscurial to become separate from the obscurus, perhaps by fully accepting who they are, as it was their fear and self-loathing that created it in the first place._

 _So, yes, there is a disembodied obscurus floating around the ossuary at the moment, but what happens to a disembodied obscurus? We know Newt kept one in a bubble in his case, but what if it were free? Newt says it couldn't hurt anyone outside the bubble, perhaps because it's host is dead, but what of the obscurus, if it's host were still alive, just...disconnected?_

 _I think, and- this is just a theory- I believe that this may be how a creature called a 'lethifold' is created._

 _We read about lethifolds in the textbook of 'Fantastic Beasts.' It is described as a:_

'… _mercifully rare creature... It resembles a black cloak perhaps half an inch thick…which glides along the ground at night…the Patronus is the only spell known to repel a Lethifold…Once its prey has been successfully suffocated, the Lethifold digests its food there and then…leaving no trace of its victim behind.'_

 _I think a powerful, living, obscurus, no longer having a host body to feed off, may possibly change and condense itself to become a lethifold, feeding on sleeping victims to sustain itself. As a patronus is the only thing that can repel a lethifold, much like a dementor, I can imagine a lethifold also not being able to withstand positive emotions like love and happiness after possibly being a former obscurus, due to the magical parasite being created by fear and self-loathing._

 _Did you follow my reasoning there?_

 _It's just a theory of course. Only time will tell how close I am, but even if I am way off the mark, this is my story, so I can have a degree of creative license, being a fanfiction writer, sooo…. Who knows?_

 _But, I couldn't find an appropriate place to put that in the actual story, so I put it here._

 _Now, let's see… what else?_

 _Again, the tracer spell Tina does is one I made up. But, we saw in the Fantastic Beasts movie, the aurors studying a map of flashing lights as it seemed to trace the obscurus' path through New York, so I assume they have some way of tracking magic or people._

 _And I had Grindlewald kidnap Willow, as I imagine his informants had told him about her, and Grindlewald, preferring coercion, would rather Credence come to him willingly. And if Credence is finding a place with a no-maj girl, that could hardly be tolerated, so yes, I do imagine him try into force Credence to reveal his most terrifying aspect of himself- his obscurus- in an effort to make Willow reject Credence out of fear, in order to prove the point that wizards can never mix with the non-magical community._

 _But Willow, having believed in magic her whole life and often felt an outcast in mainstream society because of it, while she would have been scared in the battle, as anyone would be, I could see her still staying by Credence, as she herself is 'not normal' and so did not react the way Grindlewald considered a 'normal' non-magic girl to react to magic._

 _I think that's all the main points in this chapter, though I'm sure there are some smaller points I've missed explaining._

 _If you have any questions, please let me know._

 _Please leave a review!._


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's note: Hello everybody! Here's Chapter 22. We're nearly at the finish line!_

~..~..~..~..

The following day was New Year's Eve, and the sky was a dull grey, which seemed appropriate, Credence thought, standing with the small group gathered around the simple gravestone as the funeral director spoke about how Willow had 'died before her time'.

There weren't many people there: Eliza and Mr Branch, from the flower shop were in attendance, having closed the shop for the morning's service, and there were also a couple of people Credence guessed were from the animal shelter Willow had also worked at, due to the two dogs they'd brought with them, with black ribbons and scarves tied around their necks.

And then there were himself, Newt, Tina, Jacob, Queenie, Imamu, Dumbledore and, strangely, Theseus.

Eventually, the funeral director closed his book before signalling for the coffin to be lowered into the grave.

Once it was done, Newt gently nudged Credence, and cautiously, he stepped forward to scoop up a handful of soil, before gently tossing it into the grave. Credence heard the soft thuds as the clots of earth landed on the simple wooden coffin.

The thought of Willow lying in that plain wooden box, all alone, made him choke back a sob as he stepped back to re-join his friends, where Queenie and Tina each wrapped an arm around him comfortingly. Eliza then stepped forward to toss her own handful of soil over the coffin.

After all those who wished to do the same had done so, the professional grave diggers then set to work and people began to leave flowers by the simple grave before slowly walking away. Most were leaving white lilies, though Mr Branch placed a wreath of twisted willow branches studded with lilies, pink roses and intertwined with ivy against the headstone.

Credence stood there until the gravediggers were finished and packing up their equipment before walking over to place a small bouquet of freesias on the small headstone.

The headstone had just a simple engraving, showing Willow's name, the day she was born and the day she died.

' _In with Love, Out with Fear_ ,' was written below the dates. Credence had insisted something of her story to be engraved on the stone, so that she would be remembered, and not simply disappear into history.

"I still can't believe it," a voice spoke up and Credence turned to find Eliza still standing nearby, eyes red from crying.

"She's just _gone_ ," she said shakily, laughing without humour. "Just like that," she clicked her fingers. "And I come home to find that detective, saying…" She gestured vaguely over to where Theseus stood beside his younger brother before taking a breath.

"A _mugging_. I don't _bloody-well_ believe it." Eliza wiped her eyes furiously. "Hope they catch the bastard," she choked out before her face crumpled. "Willow deserved better than this."

Credence approached her slowly, unsure of what to say. Theseus had given the non-magical authorities the information that Willow had been killed in a mugging attempt, calling himself a witness. It was the easiest thing to stifle an investigation as to how an otherwise healthy young woman suddenly dies.

Credence didn't know quite how Theseus pulled it off, especially as Willow had no visible injuries, but Tina had mentioned something about memory charms…

"Yes," he agreed with Eliza. "She deserved so much better."

Eliza nodded before clearing her throat, regaining her composure.

"Thank you for coming, today, Credence," she told him with a sad smile. "Willow really cared for you. I know she'd be glad you were here to say goodbye."

"I'd hoped I'd never have to say goodbye." Credence admitted, causing Eliza to tear up again.

"Me either," she nodded her understanding, sniffing as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her eyes. "But we don't get a say in these things, unfortunately."

The young woman held out her hand, and Credence took it.

"Please stay in touch, Credence," Eliza told him sincerely. "Don't be a stranger. You're welcome at the shop anytime."

"Thank you, Eliza," Credence replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Please come to Jacob's bakery tomorrow, for the opening," he added.

The young woman nodded, and with one last, sad smile, Eliza took her leave.

Slowly, Credence made his way over to where his friends and professors were standing.

"Are you okay, Credence?" Tina asked worriedly.

"No," he answered dully, wiping his eyes.

"That's alright," Newt told him. "You've just lost someone you care about, so it's alright to not be alright."

"My condolences, Credence," Theseus told him formally, stepping forward to shake the man's hand. "She was very brave."

"But no one will ever know what she did," Credence stated. As far as the non-magical community knew, Willow was just another tragic statistic in a struggling, post-war world.

" _We_ will," Queenie reminded him. "We'll never forget her."

"So, what now?" Tina asked, and Newt tried his best not to look in her direction.

Would she be returning to America now? He wondered. They hadn't yet found time to talk about… whatever it was that had happened after the dementor attack, and Newt was afraid she'd disappear before…

"How about we all go back to the bakery?" Queenie suggested, hooking her arm through her husband's. "We could use some discerning British feedback, to see if we need to make any last-minute changes before opening day tomorrow."

"I'd be happy to oblige, Mrs Kowalski," Albus tipped his hat.

"You lot go ahead," Theseus declined the invite. "As for me, I need to head back to the Ministry. With Grindlewald gone, we're back to square one."

~..~..~..~..

The mood was sombre during the walk to the Kowalski's bakery and Credence almost walked past it, so lost was he in his own thoughts. The cosy shop had the new signage displaying 'Kowalski's Freshly Baked Goods' on the windows and awnings, but the newspaper wouldn't come down from the windows until that night, ready for the grand opening on New Year's Day.

Credence, Tina, Newt and Queenie had helped get the bakery decked out in time last night, with the help of magic, and he was glad that there was some hope of someone having _something_ to celebrate after all this sadness.

As they entered the shop, the comforting smell of bread filled their nostrils, but even that failed to lifts his spirits.

Jacob and Queenie warmly offered a selection of baked treats for them all to sample, and while the group tried to keep smiles on their faces, complementing the food, it wasn't long before the mood turned gloomy once more.

Credence pulled his chair over to the window, so he could look out through a gap in the newspaper covered glass.

He could see the flower shop from where he sat, and remembered the first day he saw Willow, standing there, offering flowers to passers-by as he explored London for the first time.

She had given him a wave.

She had taken him to his first film.

She had taught him how to catch snowflakes.

She had given him a kiss.

She had accepted him.

She saved his life…by losing hers.

Credence felt himself crying again as he hit the windowsill with a fist.

How could he possibly hope to repay her for all she did for him?

"Maybe, by not letting her sacrifice be for nothing." A voice suggested gently and Credence turned as Queenie came to join him, offering a cup of cocoa.

"I remember when Momma and Pop died when Tina and I were kids," Queenie told him. "I don't remember them much, but I remember how it felt when they were gone. And even now I'm grown up, I still miss them. I wish they could've been there, at my wedding." The woman sighed, regarding Credence with empathy.

"It'll never stop hurting, Credence," the legilimens told him. "But that's actually a good thing, because it means that you still care about them. It'll never stop, but it will get easier. Every day, there's something I wish I could talk to Momma about. So, in my head, I do." She smiled. "I have pictures of her," the woman explained, "and I imagine we're sitting at the table, drinking coffee, and I'm telling her about my day, or discussing ideas for dinner."

Queenie glanced at Credence.

"The important thing is to keep living though," she told him seriously. "It's easy to get lost in the daydreams of what could have been. I hope I've made my Momma proud, but to know whether I'm doing that, I have to be proud of myself. I think it's the same with you," Queenie wrapped an arm around Credence's shoulders.

"I know you grieve for 'what could have been,' Credence," she continued gently. "And it's okay to do that. But Willow wanted you to have a life," she reminded him. "She thought your life was worth saving, so, if you really want to know how to repay her for that, my suggestion is: to live your life as well as you can. No regrets." Queenie's smile was warm, if sad.

"And know that you can stay with us as long as you need to," she reminded him. "You have a family here, remember that."

Credence placed his mug on the windowsill before wrapping Queenie in a hug, glad he didn't need to speak.

After a time, Imamu and Dumbledore remarked that they needed to return to school, as the school term started in two days and the students were starting to return.

"I do hope you will come to class tonight, Credence," Dumbledore told him, wrapping the man in comforting hug before letting Imamu have her turn.

"We look forward to seeing you, and there is still much for you to learn," Imamu added.

As they made their farewells, however, Dumbledore opened the door just as someone else was approaching it.

"Mr Graves!" Queenie exclaimed, stepping forward as the American auror entered. "Welcome."

"Theseus told me I may find you here," Mr Graves greeted slowly, scanning the room before his eyes found Credence.

"My condolences for your loss," he said carefully. "And, while we didn't capture Grindlewald, you still kept up your end of the bargain, even if it wasn't as intended."

He met Credence's eyes carefully, before holding up a large envelope.

"I bring a peace offering for you."

Credence was dubious.

"Is that the information about my family?" He asked. "How did you get it so quickly?'

"Well, truth be told, when I found that you were alive, I wanted to find out who, exactly, you were," Graves began slowly. "And, one of the benefits of being me, is that I can get access to the records of any department I like. Including, but not limited to, the births, deaths and marriages records."

Credence stepped forward, giving Graves his full attention now.

"And, I could get a whole team of people searching looking through all of our records, even old newspapers, trying to find and match information to you," Graves continued. "And, I believe, we have indeed found out who you are. By, uh, happy coincidence, I received this packet this morning." He offered the envelope to the young man who slowly, reverently, accepted it.

"This has my real birth certificate?" Credence asked. "With my real name, and…and my mother's?"

"It's not the whole story," Graves admitted slowly. "And, I admit, there were several cross references that had to be done to ensure we got the right woman. However, I believe there is enough there to give you an idea of your story, Credence," he pointed to the envelope in Credence's hands.

"Thank you, Mr Graves," Credence's voice was barely a whisper as he hugged the envelope to his chest.

"The least I can do," Graves nodded to accept the man's gratitude. "Though I informed Theseus that you may be paying him a visit soon."

"Why?" Credence asked.

Graves pursed his lips.

"I'll leave you to read it," he answered enigmatically before taking his leave.

There was silence as everyone in the room stared at Credence and the envelope in his hands.

"Do you want to be left alone to read it, Credence?" Newt asked him.

"Yes...No," Credence stammered. "It's just… this could have all the answers I've been wanting. My parents, my name, what happened to them…"

"I know, it's a big moment," Tina nodded, placing her hand on his shoulder. "But if you like, we can be right here with you."

Credence swallowed.

"I will share it with you," Credence began. " _Late_ r. This time… the first time… I really want to read it by myself."

"We understand Credence," Newt said while the others nodded.

"I look forward to hearing of your discovery at class tonight, Credence," Dumbledore told him as he and Imamu made their way out.

"You can take that up to your room, Honey, so you can have some privacy," Queenie encouraged him. "Jacob and I will be down here, working on tomorrow's opening."

"And I should see to my creatures, so I'll be down in the case when you're ready," Newt added.

"I'll help you," Tina volunteered quickly.

~..~..~..~.

Credence sat on his bed in the small second bedroom of the Kowalski apartment, staring at the envelope in his hands, and it took him a moment to realise he was shaking.

' _So many questions_ ,' he told himself. ' _And you could have the first answers, right here in this envelope.'_

So, taking a deep breath, Credence gathered his courage and, fingers still trembling, tore open the packet.

A slender, tattered book, slid out onto the bed, followed by a faded newspaper article, a piece of yellowed parchment, and two smaller envelopes.

Credence picked up the newspaper article carefully. It was dated Friday the 20th October 1902

" **More lives Scoured away at Martha's Vineyard** ," the heading cried out.

' _Aurors can now reveal the details of a case that began when they arrived at the scene of a suspected arson attack in Martha's Vineyard last Friday:_

 _The attack, said to be the third in the case of the 'Second Salemers,' as they call themselves, believed to be descendants of the Scourers at the time of the Salem Witch Trials in 1692, this time attacked a young mother with a one year old son._

 _The witch in question, MACUSA can now reveal, was Auror Clarisse Tremblay._

 _Tremblay's body was found in the charred wreckage of her home, tied to a metal stake that had been fixed to her living room floor._

 _Like the previous two victims, she had been subject to sever blunt force trauma, according to mediwizards who examined the body, rendering her unconscious before she died of smoke inhalation once tied up and her house set alight._

 _And, like the previous two victims, Wilhelmina Fischer and Nimue Graves, Clarisse Tremblay's wand had been found snapped in half, and on her person._

 _Two years ago, Clarisse Tremblay had become the youngest woman to become an Auror on the Major Investigative team, and had been a key member in investigating these attacks by the Second Salemers, before having to take leave to give birth to her first child: A boy named Corvus, Tremblay had claimed she named in honour of his father._

 _The whereabouts of the father to her child is unknown, though he is rumoured to have been a wizard her colleagues say she began a relationship with not long after he arrived in the USA. He is not believed to be a suspect in this case, as he has been out of the country for over a year. It is said he returned to Britain after he and Clarisse became estranged._

 _Tremblay re-joined the major investigative team at the start of this year. The child, born in June last year, was not found in the wreckage of the house._

" _I think that the Second Salemers threatened the baby so that they were able to get in," a close friend of Tremblay's, wishing to remain nameless, quoted tearfully. "Clarisse was an extremely gifted witch, and an expert dueller. And she loved her boy with everything she had. Clarisse would've died before she let her baby get hurt. And I think that's just what she did."_

 _If anyone has any information regarding the movements or members of the Second Salemers, or any information as to the whereabouts and wellbeing of the missing baby boy, please contact the Auror Department at MACUSA._

Credence realised his hands were shaking.

"Clarisse Tremblay", he whispered, trying out the sound of the name on his tongue. Had that been his mother's name? She'd been burned alive…what a _horrible_ way to die.

Swallowing, Credence carefully placed the article aside and picked up the piece of parchment, unfolding it.

He froze.

It was a birth certificate. _His_ birth certificate.

He tried to focus on breathing as he read the words:

 **Report Of Birth**

 **Vital Statistics Dept. MACUSA**

 **State of** : Massachusetts.

1: **Full Name of Child** : Corvus Tremblay

2: **Sex** : Male 3: **Blood Status** : Pure Blood

3: **Number of Child to this mother** : 1 4: **How many currently living** : 1

5: **Number of Child to this father** : 2 6: **How many currently living** : 2

7: **Date of this Birth:** 01/06/1901

8: **Place of This Birth** : _13 Brighton Cres,_ Chilmark, Martha's Vinyard, Massachusetts.

9: **Full name of Mother:** Clarisse Tremblay

10: **Maiden Name of Mother:** N/A

11: **Full Name of Father** : Corvinus Lestrange

12: **Mediwitch/ Midwife in attendance (if any):** N/A

13: **Address of Mediwitch/ Midwife in attendance (if applicable):** N/A

 **Certified by:** Esme Berenson, Administrator for Vital Statistics Dept. MACUSA.

 **Date:** 30/06/1901 Name: Esme Berenson **Sign:** _Esme Berenson_

Credence sat in shock for a full minute before rereading the newspaper article.

'… _before having to take leave to give birth to her first child: A boy named Corvus, Tremblay had claimed she named in honour of his father.'_ He reread.

"My name is Corvus," he whispered. "Named for my father."

He finally knew his name!

And his mother's name…

"Clarisse," he whispered, as he checked the news article again. "She was an _auror_."

Wanting to know more, Credence pulled the two envelopes towards him. After considering for a moment, he tore open the one that looked older, with crumpled edges.

Tipping out the contents, Credence discovered a couple of photographs of a group of people in Puritan dress. The Second Salemers.

Looking at one photo, Credence scanned the faces before freezing. In the front row, stood a young woman with short, dark hair, and cold grey eyes…

Looking stoically up at him from the picture was a younger version of his Ma. She couldn't have been much older than he was now.

Looking at the date, written on the back, it was the 21st April, 1902.

Then, Credence took up the second photograph. There were the second Salemers again, fewer in number this time, but still stoic and steely.

And there, on the right-hand side, was his young Ma once again. Though, this time, Credence noticed she had a baby in her arms.

It was dated 18th November 1902.

Checking the date on the news article again, Credence felt himself turn cold.

This photograph had been taken about a month after Clarisse Tremblay had been killed.

Pulling the second envelope toward him, Credence opened it to discover three photographs and a newspaper clipping.

The first photograph showed a young woman, with high cheekbones and long raven hair tied in an elaborately braided knot. She was smiling as she held up a gold medal, raising her wand triumphantly. It was a wizards' photograph, so the image was moving.

 _'I won the duelling championship again!_ ' was written on the back. It was dated 3rd May 1898.

This, he realised must be Clarisse Tremblay…

His mother… Credence stared hungrily at the image. His mother had been a duelling champion!

Carefully, he placed the photo aside and picked up the next.

The same dark-haired woman, his mother, was in the photo, but this time, she was sitting beside a tall man with dark hair and black eyes.

' _Corvinus and I at MACUSA's Halloween party,_ ' was written on the back in his mother's handwriting. It was dated 31st October, 1900.

Credence studied the man once more.

Corvinus…

His father, Credence realised, checking the name on his birth certificate.

Corvinus Lestrange had dark hair, pale skin and held himself proudly. He and Clarisse appeared to be in a restaurant of some kind, decorated lavishly for Halloween. There were lots of other people around them, but the pair in the photo were looking at each other, smiling, seeming so completely absorbed in conversation, they didn't even look up when the camera flashed.

Checking the date on the photo again, Credence looked once more at his birth certificate, frowning in thought as he counted the months in his mind...

Placing the second photo aside, he drew the last photo towards him.

It featured his mother again, who looked so happy, she appeared to be glowing. She was sitting outside on a chair, in a small, walled, flower garden.

And there, cradled in her arms, was a new born baby.

' _My beautiful baby, Corvus, enjoying his first day in the garden,_ ' was written on the back, dated 7th June 1901.

Smiling once more at his mother's handwriting, Credence wiped his eyes as he placed the last photo aside to pick up the newspaper clipping.

 _ **Second Salemer Update**_ he read.

 _After the tragic death of Nimue Graves, a highly respected Mediwitch, who was found hanging from an oak tree by her horrified younger brother, three weeks ago, the Auror Department of MACUSA wants to urge the wizarding community to remain calm._

" _These horrendous acts of hatred are the work of a small group," Auror Clarisse Tremblay said at a press conference this morning. "As they are not wizards, we are working to gather sufficient evidence to convince the no-maj law enforcement of their guilt in these crimes so that justice can be done."_

 _When questioned as to how they were going to do so, Auror Tremblay simply replied:_

" _To answer that question would be to compromise the team, and I can't do that."_

 _Rumours are, however, that the Auror investigation team are attempting to infiltrate the Second Salemers group._

 _24th March 1902_ had been hastily written on the bottom of the paper, though it was not his mother's handwriting.

Credence frowned.

Quickly, he pulled his mother's duelling champion photo towards him. Studying her face carefully, he then drew the first of the Second Salem pictures closer to compare...

And there, on the far end of the front row, opposite his young Ma, was Clarisse Tremblay. She looked very different in Puritan dress. She wasn't looking at the camera, but at the ground, demurely, her hands folded primly in front of her, looking every inch the puritan.

 _His mother had been an auror, who had infiltrated the Second Salemers_ , Credence realised, feeling his jaw drop.

His mother, a witch, had intentionally joined a group of witch-hunters, to try and bring them to justice.

He had just enough time to imagine how much strength that would have taken to do, before he felt overwhelming sadness.

For his mother, clearly a very skilled and clever witch, had failed.

Credence picked up the second picture of the Second Salemers. There was his Ma, with the baby, _him_ , in her arms.

Credence felt himself begin to shake.

How could this have happened? He wondered.

His Birth Mother had clearly been highly skilled. Ma had had no magic at all… How could Ma have…

Credence reached out and carefully picked up the photo of Clarisse holding up her duelling championship medal.

His Mother. An Auror. A duelling Champion. She could have defended herself easily, Credence was sure.

Credence felt his vision blur as he considered.

' _Your mother was a wicked, unnatural woman,_ ' he recalled Ma saying.

Had Ma discovered his Mother was a witch, and the Second Salemers then followed her home, where they threatened to kill her son, _him_ , if she did not willingly die, burning to death in her own house?

Had it been Ma who had lit the fire?

Credence hunched over as he suddenly felt himself gag at the idea that he may have grown up being raised by his mother's murderer.

After heaving in a deep lungful of air, trying to calm down, Credence's attention finally travelled to the slender book lying innocuously on the bed.

Warily, he picked it up. It had a featureless, black leather cover, that was slightly tattered around the edges. Opening the inside cover, the name _Clarisse Tremblay_ was written in his mother's handwriting, causing him to smile.

This book had been his mother's!

However, he flipped through the pages and found they were strangely blank.

Frowning, Credence considered. Graves had said there was everything he knew about his Birth Mother here. Why would they keep a blank book?

Unless, he considered, it wasn't actually blank.

Reaching for his wand, Credence held it over the blank first page.

" _Revelio_ ," he whispered.

The book seemed to tremble slightly in his hands as writing began to appear on the page as if written by an invisible hand.

His mother's handwriting.

 _'12th February, 1899,_ ' he read.

 _'Well, here I am, writing in this journal my friend Edith gave me for my birthday. Not sure how often I'll be able to write in this, as I've got my final exams soon, and I'm determined to be top of the class this year, so I can start my work as an Auror straight away. Still, I do find it therapeutic to see my thoughts written on paper, so I hope I have plenty of adventures to document in here, or this may, sadly, end up being a very boring book.'_

Credence felt himself smile as he read the words on the page.

This had been his mother's journal.

' _Tap, tap, tap.'_

Startled at the sound, Credence looked around his empty room, and it was only when he heard another 'tap-tap' that he looked to see a barn own, sitting outside his window.

" _Edison_ ," Credence jumped up to let his owl in. "Did you get to America and back already?"

Edison perched on the headrest of his bed, looking exhausted. Slowly, Credence held out an arm, and the owl slowly stepped up.

"I know how you feel," he told his owl. "I've been through a lot, too. You really deserve a rest."

It was only as Edison gratefully hopped into his cage and began drinking water, that Credence noticed the letter tied to the owl's leg.

"Did Modesty write back?" Credence asked, feeling as if it had been ages since he'd tried to reach out to his little sister, back in America.

Credence untied the envelope, freeing Edison's leg of the string before sitting once more on his bed, staring at it.

Willow's funeral, discovering his birth name, his birth mother, and now, holding a letter from his little sister.

Did she hate him? He wondered.

Had she written to simply tell him to never contact her again?

He supposed there was only one way to find out.

He opened the letter carefully.

 _'Dear Credence,_ **'** he read.

 _'I didn't want to write this letter. And I nearly didn't. But I still hope this finds you. I've never heard of owls delivering post before, but I suppose it must be like training homing pigeons._

 _You really scared me, Credence. Seeing what you did still gives me nightmares._

 _But I always knew you were different. And I know Ma was horrible to you. She was horrible to all of us, but she was worse to you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm glad that you have people who love you now._

 _I've just been adopted too. I have a new Momma. Her name is Martha and she's teaching me to sew. She's a seamstress and makes clothes for people. I have a new Pop, too. His name is James and he works at the canning factory._

 _And I have a new name: Mary-Anne Campbell._

 _I'm going to the public school now. It's nice, being able to learn about different things. I guess that's what it's like for you, right? At your magic school? Do you have a real magic wand?_

 _I'm glad you're not hurting people anymore._

 _I don't know what else to say. I'm an only child now, and I do miss having you as a brother, even though you scared me with what you did._

 _So, I'd like to keep writing to you, if that's okay. I do like your owl, he's very smart._

 _I hope to see you again one day, Credence,_

 _Your Sister,_

 _Mary-Anne.'_

"Mary-Anne," Credence tried out the sound of the new name. He liked it.

Lowering his sister's letter, Credence let out a long breath.

This had been a lot to absorb all at once.

' _Sister'_ , Credence's mind latched onto the word and, for some reason, Credence felt it was important.

His mind racing, Credence snatched up his birth certificate once more.

' _Number of children to this mother: 1_ ,' He read. ' _Number of children to this father:_ _ **2**_.'

Credence's eyes darted further down the page.

' _Full name of Father: Corvinus Lestrange_.' He read.

"Lestrange," he whispered, and he felt his heart beginning to race.

 _As in…?_

Credence swallowed. Graves had been right, he realised.

He needed to talk to Theseus.

Gathering up all the photographs and documents, Credence quickly but carefully packed everything back into the large envelope before making his way downstairs.

~..~..~..~..

"Thank you for volunteering to help me, Tina," Newt began as he descended the ladder down into his potting shed.

"It's no problem, Newt," Tina answered, as she followed. "You know I like helping you and your creatures."

She stepped off the last rung and was struck by just how small the shed was.

Newt stood awkwardly for a moment before hurrying about, collecting feed for the creatures. This was the first time he and Tina had been alone in the case since…

Newt cleared his throat, avoiding Tina's eyes.

"Let's see how much damage the nifflers have caused by now," he suggested and felt his heart lighten as he heard Tina laugh.

Stepping out into the main area of the case, Tina once again felt her breath catch as she marvelled at the space.

"I'm always amazed at this place, Newt," she told him as they walked through the case, Newt picking up the wheelbarrow to start his rounds in an effort to avoid trying to hold Tina's hand.

Would that be so bad, if he did? He wondered. Would Tina want to hold his hand?

Newt shook his head as he threw a large chunk of meat for his nundu, Nala.

Credence has just had to say goodbye to a girl he had been falling in love with, he reminded himself. It wasn't right for Newt to start thinking…

However, he couldn't stop himself shaking at the thought of perhaps, one day, having to go to Tina's funeral if anything were to ever happen to her during this insane time.

"Newt?"

The magizoologist looked up to see Tina watching him in concern as she knelt by the fwooper feeders. She was becoming more confident in the various tasks around the case now, and Newt felt himself smile at how comfortable she was becoming, in his case, and how comfortable his creatures were becoming with her.

"What's wrong?"

Newt swallowed.

"Why would something be wrong?" He asked, trying to avoid the question.

Tina came closer, her expression searching.

"You stopped suddenly, nearly tipping over the mooncalf food bucket," Tina pointed out, "and you had such a fearful look on your face." She was very close now, frowning in concern and Newt felt an urge to brush his fingers against her cheek.

He gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow more tightly.

"I was just…thinking," he began hesitantly. "Willow was killed only yesterday. And no one, outside us, is ever going to really know her story. What she did for us, for Credence."

"I know," Tina nodded sadly. "It's not fair. Poor Willow. And poor Credence," she added. "He really cared about her, but they never really got the chance to be together."

"I know," Newt nodded. "That's not fair, either."

Newt studied Tina's pensive features, before swallowing nervously, trying to gather his courage.

"That's what I was thinking about, actually," he said quickly, gaining Tina's attention.

"What?" Tina asked, stepping forward.

"H-how life can change so quickly," Newt explained, placing his hands in his pockets, before clasping them behind his back. "You think you have time, and then…before you know it, you've lost your chance."

Tina was gazing at him now, and Newt wondered if she could hear his heart beating furiously inside his chest.

"We nearly died in that amphitheatre," Tina recalled.

"The dementors nearly took your soul," Newt added, his throat tightening at the memory of watching the spectral creatures hands gripping Tina's throat.

"You saved me from the dementors, as I recall," Tina told him fondly. "And you saved me from the death cell in MACUSA, as well," she reminded him. "That's _three_ close calls we've had, now."

Newt made eye contact with Tina and once again felt that emotional _pull_ in his chest.

This time, he allowed the feeling to guide his actions, and he reached out a hand to gently brush his fingers against Tina's hair, like he had back on the docks in New York.

This time, however, he let himself be slightly bolder, and brushed his fingers gently against Tina's cheek.

As he slowly retracted his hand, Newt was rewarded with a shy smile as Tina, as if on reflex, brushed her own fingertips against the skin he'd touched.

That was a good sign, right?

' _Come on, Newt,_ ' he told himself as he took a deep breath. ' _You can do this, just tell her_.'

"Newt?" Tina asked, raising her eyes slowly to meet his.

"Yes?" He stammered, swallowing. Why was his throat so dry?

"You said I was your happy memory," Tina began slowly, avoiding his eyes now as a blush tinged her pale cheeks, "and that was why your patronus changed to a porcupine?"

"Yes," Newt nodded, grateful that Tina had given him a starting point.

"We…never got to finish our conversation, did we?" She asked, raising her eyes shyly to meet his.

"No," Newt granted. "Though, admittedly, it was probably not a good time."

"Well," Tina hesitantly took another step closer. "Is _now_ a better time?"

Newt considered this carefully, before nodding. True, they had attended a funeral that very morning, but if it was one thing Newt knew Death could teach the Living, it was to not waste time.

"Yes," Newt cleared his throat. "And I believe you had yet to make a comment, after I revealed my patronus' new form," he was quick to say, his eyes studying Tina intently.

"What were you going to say?" He asked.

Tina averted her eyes as she reached out to gently claim Newt's hand in both of her own.

Newt was startled to see tears in her eyes as she gently rubbed her thumbs against his skin.

' _She's crying_ ,' Newt felt his throat clench. ' _Why is she crying?'_

"Tina?" He asked, concerned, as he reached out with free hand to wipe the tears away.

"Sorry," Tina apologised as she took a deep breath to compose herself. "Newt, I-"

She broke off, wiping her face as more tears began to trail down her cheeks.

"Oh, I don't know how to do this," she mumbled, turning away suddenly, and fear suddenly clenched at Newt's heart.

"You don't feel the same way," he surmised dully. Should he really be so surprised that was the case? He wondered bitterly. It was the story of his-

Tina's head snapped around in shock.

"No!" She corrected, stunned at his assumption. "Newt, I _do_ have feelings for you, I _do_ , I just…wanted to tell you _properly_ , and I don't know how to do that."

Tina stared, raising her shaking fingers to her lips, shocked at her own outburst.

' _Well,'_ Tina thought numbly, _'that's one way to do it, I suppose_.'

Newt stared right back, disbelieving. Slowly, his lips formed relieved smile.

"Y-you _do_ feel the same as I do?" He asked.

Tina nodded.

"That… wasn't how I wanted to tell you," Tina admitted, laughing nervously. "What you had said was so beautiful," she told him. "I wanted to be eloquent as well, but-"

"No, that was perfect," Newt told her sincerely. Simply hearing her say that she cared about him as he did her was enough…it was more than enough…

Tina laughed with a mixture of relief and joy and Newt felt himself returning the smile gladly.

Tina took a deep breath, encouraged by his reaction. If Newt could be brave enough to state the truth of his feelings, then so could she.

"In a _proper_ answer to your question," Tina began, biting her lip as she looked down at the ground, "I would have said: I do have feelings for you Newt," she confessed, and Newt could feel his smile growing wider, "and the truth is, I believe I started having feelings for you back in New York. And," she swallowed as emotion welled up again, "while I may have to return to America soon, I will do everything I can to make sure I come back to you as soon as possible."

Newt reached out and took hold of Tina's hand reverently.

"I certainly look forward to you coming back, Tina," he told her, deciding to try and be a bit bolder, Newt planted a small kiss on the back of her hand and was rewarded as Tina smiled affectionately.

The sound of a commotion cut through the air and the pair turned to see Newt's first niffler chasing another away from his nest, gathering up the various shiny objects the newcomer had pilfered from his treasure trove.

"Oh, Merlin," Newt sighed in resignation.

"Why do they keep doing that?" Tina wondered. "I mean, I know they have a collector's drive, but still: what's it for?"

"Well, it's a key aspect of their courtship rituals, actually," Newt explained, gaining Tina's attention. "Whichever has the best collection will win a mate. Two of the nifflers I retrieved from the circus were female," he added, "so with four males to two females, there's…rivalry," he summed up.

"Really?" Tina asked, fascinated. "But it's not only the males who collect?"

"No, the females do too," Newt confirmed. "Just to a lesser extent. They decorate their nests to help their infants stay close. The collector's drive starts very early," he explained.

"That's interesting," Tina smiled before frowning as the two nifflers continued to squabble.

"How about I sort this out?" She put forward.

"Good luck," Newt told her, checking the contents of his wheelbarrow. "I've just remembered, I had some supplements I wanted to give the pregnant kneazle, to help her through her pregnancy. I think she's further along than I thought."

But as he made to move towards the potting shed, Tina kept a firm grip on his hand.

"Wait a second," she told him before reaching up and planting a small kiss on his cheek.

"Now you can go," she told him, blushing furiously as she turned away, keeping her eyes lowered shyly.

Newt slowly raised a hand to his cheek, before smiling widely.

He watched Tina a moment, as she carefully picked up the two nifflers, separating the pair and emptying their pouches as he'd shown her, as if she'd been doing it for years.

"Now, if you two can't share nicely," she reprimanded them, using magic to separate the objects into two even piles, "I'm taking _all_ of this away."

Chuckling slightly, Newt headed back to the potting shed.

Inside, he searched for the supplement that would help the kneazle mother, and eventually found them under some sketches he'd made.

Figuring he should tuck them away in his notebook, Newt collected the papers off his desk, and started slightly as the picture frame containing Leta's photograph was revealed.

Slowly, Newt picked it up, studying it. In the photo, Leta was beautiful, as always, and smiling that suggestive smile of hers.

He had always felt special when she'd smiled at him like that.

But now, staring at the photograph, Newt realised he now felt nothing. His heart no longer sped up, and he could no longer feel that old ache in his chest.

Turning the frame over, he placed it face down on his desk. He didn't want to look at Leta anymore.

As he turned his head, his eyes were drawn to the Daily prophet article that he'd thrown on his desk, just the other day. It was still open to the feature of his book promotion. Queenie had suggested he should frame it, to remember the success of the event.

Newt didn't think he would. If anything, he may keep it in a scrapbook. But not hang it on the wall.

Picking it up, Newt marvelled at how well the event itself had actually gone, despite him appearing so late. Then, his heart ached at the gross misunderstanding that had happened with Tina.

Tina…

Newt lay the article open completely, and there, in an inset photograph, was a picture of himself, standing beside Tina Goldstein, who smiled proudly at him as camera's flashed. The photographic image of himself appeared to be staring more at Tina, than the cameras. And, seeing how beautiful she looked in her 'maid of honour' dress she'd worn for the occasion, Newt completely understood the motivation.

Hesitantly, Newt reached out and traced Tina's image with a finger, feeling a smile appear on his face.

Pausing, Newt's eyes darted to the picture frame that lay face down on the other side of his desk.

Picking up his wand, Newt began to urgently cut up the paper.

' _Forget the scrapbook'_ , he thought. His mother was more likely to do that, anyway.

As he finished his work, footsteps could be heard approaching the shed from the creature area.

"Newt!" Tina cried as she entered the shed excitedly. "The kneazle's giving birth!"

"Already?" He'd grossly miscalculated. Her kittens would, indeed, be tiny. "I'll be right there, just make sure she's comfortable," Newt instructed, grabbing the supplement as Tina rushed back outside.

Placing Leta's picture on the floor, Newt pointed his wand at it.

' _Incendio_.'

Watching as the old photograph went up in flames, Newt felt a sense of relief flood through him.

It was a strange, almost freeing, feeling.

Before exiting the shed, Newt took one last look at the picture frame, now holding the image from the article of himself and Tina.

He felt his heart beat faster in his chest as a smile spread across his face.

He hadn't felt comfortable, getting his photograph in the paper, but Newt had to admit, he really liked that picture.

Turning, Newt left the shed, hurrying to catch up with Tina, who had used magic to quickly create a small crate, complete with a fluffy blanket, where the pregnant kneazle was lying, meowing as she experienced another contraction before resuming licking the single tiny, helpless little kneazle kitten that had just been born.

"Quick, quick, quick," Tina ushered him closer and Newt had to grin at her enthusiasm, glad to see his love for magical creatures had appeared to rub off on her.

"How is this?" Tia asked, gesturing to the box she'd made. "I thought the high sides would make her feel safe?"

"Excellent work, Tina," Newt smiled as he knelt beside her, gazing in wonder at the tiny kitten before gently helping it to suckle.

"Come on, little one," he whispered encouragingly. "Drink up. You've got a lot of growing to do."

The kneazle mother meowed again.

"It's okay, Momma," Tina ran a hand along the kneazles flank soothingly. "You're doing _so_ well."

Tina gasped.

"The next one's coming," she announced breathlessly.

"Tina," Newt told her urgently, "I need you to get a bowl of water for the mother, and put two teaspoons of this in it," he held up the supplement. "She'll be exhausted, but she needs to give her babies as much nutrition as possible, if they're going to survive."

"Alright," Tina nodded, claiming the bottle and hurrying off.

"That's it," Newt breathed, focusing his eyes back to the nursery. "You can do it, come on. Push."

Slowly, the second kneazle kitten emerged and was soon being cleaned by its mother.

"Oh, you are such a good Mummy," Newt told her, filled with pride as Tina returned.

"Do we give her the water now?" Tina queried as she joined him by the birthing box.

"No, not until after all the kittens are born," Newt answered, knowing the mother wouldn't drink now.

"Oh, there's two!" Tina exclaimed excitedly. "Clever Momma," she cooed, stroking the mother kneazle.

"Just careful not to touch the kittens," Newt cautioned. "New-borns are highly susceptible to illness, and the mother and kittens rely on smell to create their bond. We don't want to ruin that."

"Definitely not," Tina agreed.

"We just need to help the mother," Newt told Tina as the mother kneazle meowed in pain again.

This third baby, however, seemed to be coming out hindlegs first, and Newt had to intervene after a moment, to help the kitten out.

The kitten lay still as the mother cleaned it and Tina began to worry.

"Why is it so still?" She asked as the other new-borns were moving their tiny limbs to propel them towards their mother's scent.

Making a decision, Newt drew his wand and carefully levitated the kitten from the birthing box, ensuring he wasn't touching it, but still allowing the mother to see it.

"I think it's airway is blocked," Newt reported as he studied the kitten carefully.

"What?" Tina's voice went up an octave.

"Hold the kitten in place," Newt instructed, and Tina used her own wand and took up the levitation spell. Once Newt was certain the kitten was safely held, he used his wand to carefully draw a small drop of liquid from the baby's mouth.

After a gesture from Newt, Tina gently returned the kitten to its mother, who began licking it clean, clearing out its mouth completely.

After a tense moment, the tiny kitten let out a squeak and Newt and Tina let out a relieved sigh in unison.

"Well done, Newt," Tina congratulated him as kitten number three joined its siblings, suckling from their mother.

"Thank you," Newt said distractedly, his eyes focused on the mother kneazle as she meowed, panting with exhertion.

The fourth and final baby was born soon after, arriving very quickly, and Newt noticed it was the smallest of the four.

"All four, alive, clean and feeding," Newt let out a sigh of relief, wiping his forehead. "Well done Mum."

"And well done you," Tina wanted him to know he deserved some credit for his help.

"And you," Newt told her with a smile.

Tina now placed the supplement-treated water bowl where the mother kneazle could easily reach it, before returning her gaze to the tiny wiggling kneazle kittens making little squeak-like mewling sounds as they crawled over one another, each trying to be closer to their mother.

"They're so beautiful, Newt," Tina whispered, and Newt turned his attention from the new-born kittens to the woman at his side.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

Gathering his courage, Newt slowly reached out to brush his thumb along Tina's cheek, causing her to turn to him.

"Beautiful," he repeated, and he watched as understanding slowly appeared in Tina's eyes, and was blown away by the emotion he saw, as well as a little fear.

That caused an ache in his chest. The situation with Leta must hurt her more than he'd realised. And he swore to himself that he would never give her reason to doubt his regard for her again.

He noticed he was still cupping her cheek with one hand, before realising that he had no desire to pull away any time soon.

"Tina…"

He slowly traced her lips with his thumb, before once again brushing her cheek. Lifting his eyes to meet hers, silently questioning, he noticed her gaze dart down to his own lips and felt as if his heart would burst from his chest, it was beating so hard.

"May I?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Tina nodded, her expression soft.

Gathering his courage once more, Newt carefully leaned in to brush his lips against hers in a soft kiss.

Tina felt her anxiety melt away as Newts lips brushed hers, and instead, she began to feel lighter than she'd felt in a long time.

Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, and deepening the kiss.

Tina didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but all too soon, she and Newt broke apart.

"So sorry," Newt stammered to Tina's surprise. "That was terribly forward of me."

Tina raised her eyebrows.

"You are so British," she commented. "Am I complaining?"

Newt appeared wary for a moment as he carefully studied her face.

"Merlin, I hope not," he answered hesitantly.

Tina shook her head in exasperation, before pulling Newt in for another kiss.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, what do you think?_

 _ **Credence's family.**_

 _Here we go…_

 _I looked up some old layouts of birth certificates, which helped me think of the information for Credence/Corvus' birth certificate shown here. In some, there were sections declaring 'ethnicity of child' so, I figured, for the wizarding world, that would translate as 'Blood status,' which, in the old days, would be rather important, I'd guess._

 _Now, I think I've remarked on this in a previous chapter-I remember seeing on one of the trailers for CoG that there was a picture of a family tree with the possible name of 'Corvinus' at the top, Leta on one side and Credence on the other, indicating that Credence may be related to Leta Lestrange._

 _After doing research, I discovered that the general consensus was that Corvinus (I think that's his name) married a 'Laurena Kama' with whom he had a daughter, Leta. He then went on to marry a 'Clarisse Tremblay,' with whom he had a son who turned out to be Credence (original name, possibly Corvus/Corvinus Jnr)._

 _Now, by the time I had read about this- that Clarisse had been Corvinus' second wife- I had already written that Leta had parents- plural. True, her mother could have remarried, but then, I figured, Leta would bare her stepfather's last name._

 _So, while I realise I may have gone off cannon slightly, I'm still trying to make the story as authentic as I can._

 _So: for_ _ **my**_ _story, I've imagined that, while Corvinus Lestrange was married to his first wife, Laurena Kama, he had to travel to America for work, where he had an affair with Clarisse Tremblay, who was unaware of the fact her lover was married until_ _after_ _he returned to England and she discovered she was pregnant. Laurena found out and, not wanting to endure the scandal this would bring to their well known and highly respected pure-blood family, Laurena orders Corvinus to severe contact with his American lover._

 _However, Corvinus, upon learning he has a son and heir, which, I imagine would be important to a pure-blood family, he agrees to his name at least being on the boy's birth certificate, ensuring his son will at least be recognised as his own, if ever needed. Clarisse names her son 'Corvus' in honour of his father, in an effort to tie her son into his father's family, or possibly entreat Corvinus to take a greater role in raising his son._

 _However, I imagine Clarisse, while in love, was a very smart witch. Realising that her lover would be unlikely return as the time passed, she probably elected for a home birth, rather than going to the hospital- I imagine being a single, unwed mother would be as scandalous in the wizarding world in the early 1900s as it would be in the non-magical community of the time._

 _And, being a single new mother would have meant that she would have had to return to work, in order to earn an income for herself and her child, as many new single mothers have to do._

 _I decided to have Clarisse be an auror and dueller for a few reasons…_

 _First of all, 'Clarisse' is a name based on the latin word 'Clarus' meaning 'bright', 'shining,' 'gentle,' or 'famous'. As such, as names are often so important in J.K. Rowling's world, I figured this meant that Clarisse was a very bright, intelligent woman who was very skilled in what she did._

 _In addition: 'Tremblay' (originally a French topographical word 'tremblaie') means 'aspen' or 'place planted with aspens'._

 _According to the wands section on Pottermore, aspen is indeed a type of wand wood. Here's the meaning (no copywrite intended- just trying to explain my ideas!)_

' _ **Aspen**_

 _Wand-quality aspen wood is white and fine-grained, and highly prized by all wand-makers for its stylish resemblance to ivory and its usually outstanding charm-work. The proper owner of the aspen wand is often an accomplished duellist, or destined to be so, for the aspen wand is one of those particularly suited to martial magic... In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.'_

 _So, with this information, I gathered that Clarisse Tremblay may have been a highly skilled witch and a gifted dueller, much like Percival Graves, hence my making her a duelling champion._

 _I imagine Clarisse Tremblay would have been a Thunderbird, or a Wampus, incidentally._

 _Now, as we know that Mary-Lou Barebone had known Clarisse was a witch, they must have been in contact at some point. Now, if you remember the news article I had Credence discover whilst in the Hogwarts Library about the first murder in Martha's Vineyard, I decided that the Major investigation department would not be able to fully ensure justice, as they had no authority to apprehend people of the non-magical community. As such, they needed to gather enough practical evidence to pass on to the non-magical authorities to ensure the members of the Second Salemers group responsible for the killing of witches in Martha's Vineyard could be properly apprehended._

 _To do this, they needed to get someone close to them. This was the job Clarisse signed up for._

 _It was just meant to be an infiltration job: just gathering information about this non-magical group. She figured it was safe enough for an auror like her to handle, despite being a new mother._

 _I figured Clarisse would have entrusted her son to a friend, possibly one who was also a mother, but married, so could stay home, while she was working. Perhaps her friend 'Edith' who gave her the journal?_

 _However, somehow, the Second Salemers discovered what she was, and killed her, 'saving' her baby boy in the process._

 _And I keep hearing that creepy rhyme…_

' _My momma your momma gonna catch a witch…_

 _Witch number one, drowned in a river._

 _Witch number two, got a noose to give her_

 _Witch number three, gonna watch her burn_

 _Witch number four, flogging take your turn.'_

 _Perhaps there was one more murder before the Second Salemers left Martha's Vineyard to travel to New York?_

 _I think that basically sums up my idea for Clarisse's story. What do you think? Does it sound plausible?_

 _And yes, the second witch who was hung, I imagined to be Percival Graves' older sister, and quite possibly the reason he became an auror in the first place._

 _I figured Graves' would want to ensure his sister had justice done, and it may have been the reason why he was also able to tie Credence's story with Clarisse's so easily, because he would have studied her whilst investigating his sister's case._

 _As for Modesty, I remembered Credence writing to her in an earlier chapter, and couldn't leave this story without him knowing whether she wrote back. And while I know Modesty had been scared of her brother after seeing his obscurus in New York, one thing I know well is how resilient children can be. Credence and Modesty were very close, and I don't think that would change. Like Credence, Modesty still misses her brother._

 _But I had to make sure she got adopted into a nice family. She deserves a good ending, too, right?_

 _ **Now, Newt and Tina…**_

 _You see, my fellow NewtxTina shippers, I did make sure they continued their conversation from the big 'patronus reveal.'_

 _Did you like it?_

 _I figured, New had taken the first step, and revealed his feelings for Tina, and never got to hear a reply, so in this chapter, I wanted Tina do give him her answer. But, Tina, being almost as socially awkward as Newt, when it came to revealing her feelings, I imagine would stumble over her words so much, Newt would begin to suspect she was trying to figure out how to let him down gently._

 _This of course is not the case, and Tina blurts everything in a rush without thinking._

 _Newt, of course, doesn't care about the eloquence, only the truth and so is completely over the moon._

 _Now, as they have both finally declared that they each have feelings for the other, they're slowly becoming more confident when it comes to expressing that. I think the fear of rejection is incredibly debilitating for many, especially people like Newt and Tina, who have been hurt or disappointed in love in the past. So once that fear is put aside, I can imagine them taking bolder steps to showing affection towards each other, now they know the mutual feeling is there._

 _And Newt, being Newt, would always try to be a gentleman._

 _And we got to see baby kneazle kittens! I know we'll be seeing baby nifflers in CoG, but I loved seeing my baby kneazles!_

 _Speaking of the niffler, I had been wondering why it had such a strong collector's drive. Why were nifflers so drawn to shiny objects?_

 _I started thing of other animals in the world that collect objects and the most famous animal collector I could think of was the bower bird._

 _Bower birds really struck me, for they take great care in collecting and arranging the treasures they collect in order to impress a mate. Stealing from rivals if needed._

 _And I thought: maybe that's why the niffler is attracted to shiny objects? Afterall, no one teaches the bowerbirds to collect items, it's an instinct, much like the nifflers. So, I thought the niffler's collector's drive most likely developed as something to do with courtship, but until they became of breeding age, it was just a collector's drive- practice, if you will._

 _That's my theory, at least- I'm a Ravenclaw and a huge fan of Sir David Attenborough, is that showing?_

 _I think that's it. Any questions?_

 _Please review!_

 _Okay, final chapter next, deep breath…._


	23. Chapter 23

_Author's note: Hello everybody!_

 _I've had a couple of questions about the photos described in the last chapter. There were_ _two_ _photos of the Second Salemers. The First shows Clarisse in puritan dress with Mary-Lou on opposite ends of the front row, taken while Clarisse was undercover. The Second was taken a month or so after Clarisse's death and shows Mary Lou holding baby Credence. So sorry, I thought I'd made the distinction clear when Credence was comparing them, but I apparently got some people mixed up. My apologies, and I hope this clarifies it a bit._

 _Here's the final chapter, I really hope you like it._

~..~..~..~..

Credence hurried down the stairs to the bakery to find Jacob helping Queenie put on her coat.

"Of course, we'll take you to the Ministry to talk to Theseus," Queenie told Credence, inviting him for a hug, which Credence gladly accepted.

"Are you alright?" Jacob asked Credence in concern.

"He's okay," Queenie answered when it seemed Credence couldn't. "He's just received some very big news."

Queenie hurried over to Newt's case, where it lay on the floor and knocked three times.

In a few moments, Newt and Tina climbed out.

"What's happened?" Newt asked avoiding Queenie's gaze.

But it took more than lack of eye contact to stop a legilimens like Queenie and she let out an excited squeal before flinging her arms around her sister.

"I'm so happy for you!" She exclaimed, turning to hug Newt before he could protest.

"Uh…thank you, Queenie," Newt answered, blushing furiously as Tina covered her eyes with a hand.

"What?" Queenie turned back to her sister. "After so much sadness over the past couple of days, I'm glad to finally have something be _happy_ about."

Tina sighed, before giving her sister a smile.

"That's quite alright." Queenie answered her sister's thoughts.

Newt turned his eyes on Tina.

"Does Queenie always-"

" _Yes_ ," Tina answered instantly. "Welcome to my world, Newt. You'll get used to it."

"Wonderful," Newt nodded, not so sure about that.

"I'm sorry," Jacob spoke up, getting their attention. "Can someone explain, you know, for those of us who can't read minds?"

"Nothing," Newt and Tina answered quickly and Queenie let out a huff. Still, she didn't want to force Newt and Tina to talk if they didn't feel ready yet.

"The kneazle's given birth," she announced. "We now have four new kittens!"

"Oh, wow, that's great," Jacob smiled.

"Credence," Tina stepped forward quickly, "did you read that information Graves got for you?"

"Yes,' Credence nodded. "My mother's name was Clarisse Tremblay. She was the youngest person to become an auror for the Major Investigation Department at MACUSA."

"Wow," Tina marvelled. "That's impressive."

"I'll go over it all with you, soon," Credence told them. "But now, I need to go to the Ministry to talk to Theseus."

"Why?" Newt asked.

"Because," Credence reached into the envelope and pulled out his birth certificate, "my father's name is Corvinus Lestrange."

Newt felt his jaw drop as he read the name on the parchment.

"That's…That's the name of Leta's father," he announced.

"You mean the Leta Lestrange that's currently in Ministry custody after she stole your niffler to rob Gringots bank to give gold to Grindlewald in order to fund his coup?" Tina asked.

"The very same," Newt's eyes were wide as he studied Credence.

"Leta's your _sister_?" He asked. "Leta has a _brother_? I've never heard anything about…" He ran a hand through his hair, completely befuddled.

"How did this happen?" He asked.

"That's why I want to go see Theseus," Credence stated. "I can try and get an audience with Leta, and maybe get some more answers."

"She may not even know anything," Queenie put forward. "Her father may not have told her he had a love child."

"The Lestranges are a highly influential pure-blood family," Newt reminded them all. "The scandal would have been astronomical."

Credence swallowed.

"But, how about we go to the Ministry before jumping to conclusions?" Newt concluded, gesturing towards the door.

~..~..~..~..

Graves was just completing a a final debriefing with his team when he spotted Newt, Tina, Credence, Queenie, and Jacob enter the Auror Department.

"Theseus, I believe you have visitors," Graves gestured to the group as the aurors filed out of the office. "They got here earlier than expected," he added under his breath.

"Why did you think they'd be here?" Theseus asked and the American Auror sighed.

"A had a team do some research into who Credence is," Graves answered as the pair watched the group approach.

"And I think it may surprise you."

"Theseus," Newt greeted his brother, nodding in greeting to Mr Graves. "I need to ask a favour."

"What kind of favour?" Theseus asked, glancing at Graves warily.

"Credence needs to speak to Leta," Newt announced, gesturing to the young man beside him.

"Absolutely not," Theseus told him flatly. "She's a suspect in my custody, and only family are permitted to have access."

"Well, that's just the thing," Newt nodded to Credence, who handed over his birth certificate.

Newt watched, slightly amused, as his brother's expression went from suspicious, to greatly surprised. He raised his gaze from the parchment, eyes wide, studying Credence carefully, before turning to Graves, who simply raised his eyebrows in a 'who'd have thought it?' expression.

"You're Leta's _brother_?" Theseus asked Credence in a whisper.

"Half-brother, apparently," Newt nodded. "But, yes, it seems he is."

"How did no one know about this?" Theseus asked.

"We don't know," Newt answered.

"Does Leta know?" Theseus wondered.

" _We don't know_ ," Newt repeated. "But that's why we were hoping you could give Credence an audience with her, Theseus," he added.

Theseus swallowed, considering.

"Only family is allowed," Credence spoke up slowly. "I believe I'm family." He let out a breath, having realised that was the first time he'd said it.

"I'm family," he repeated.

Theseus returned the parchment to Credence carefully before turning to Graves.

"It's verifiable?" He asked, gesturing to the birth certificate.

"Oh yes," Graves nodded. "Believe me, our record keepers are very thorough."

Theseus ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright," he nodded to Credence, gesturing for them to follow. "I can't give you much time though."

Graves paused, considering, before moving to join them.

"Get Leta Lestrange into an interview room," Theseus ordered a passing auror as they walked. "She has a visitor."

Credence gripped the large envelope in his hands as Queenie rubbed his shoulder reassuringly.

He was going to talk to Leta, who was, quite possibly, his sister.

He had a sister.

Did she know about him? He wondered. Or was it like Theseus and Newt had said? _Scandalous_. Credence swallowed. Maybe Leta wouldn't believe him? Maybe she'd deny it?

Or maybe, Credence felt his throat tighten as another thought came to him.

Maybe they got it wrong, and his mother wasn't Clarisse Tremblay, after all…

"She's in room three, Sir," someone called to Theseus, who gave a nod of gratitude.

Credence swallowed as they stopped before a door.

This was it…

"You can do this, Credence," Newt told him. "You could have a sister, behind that door."

"A criminal sister," Tina added under her breath.

"I'm not exactly an angel myself," Credence reminded them, taking a deep breath.

Hand shaking slightly, Credence reached out and turned the door handle.

"You've got ten minutes," Theseus told Credence as he stepped into the room.

There, sitting at the table, was Leta Lestrange.

She was pretty, with dark skin and large eyes, and Credence wondered if they both took after their respective mothers. His eyes raked her features, trying to find any similarities to his own.

Was this his sister? His family?

"Who are you?" Leta asked, warily curious of this young man stepping shyly into the room, staring at her intently with dark eyes.

"My name is…Credence Barebone," he answered slowly.

"You're the obscurial right?" She asked as he sat down. "Newt's friend? What brings you here?"

Unable to think of the right way to begin, Credence simply reached into the large envelope he was carrying and extracted a photograph.

"Do you recognise anyone?" He asked, holding it up.

Leta stared. The picture showed a man and woman sitting in a restaurant, laughing.

"No idea who the woman is," Leta said. "But the man in the photo is my father."

Credence started.

"It's true," he whispered.

"What?" Leta asked. "What's true? Where did you get this photograph?"

"I-I don't know how to start," Credence began, staring wide eyed at the woman who sat opposite him.

His sister.

After a moment's thought he simply took out the contents of the envelope.

"Mr Graves came to me today," he explained as he placed the items on the table in front of her. "And he told me he had made some inquiries with various departments of MACUSA, until he found my birth certificate."

He placed this item on the table last, and waited with baited breath as Leta studied everything before her, her eyes becoming wider and wider as she read.

Finally, after examining his birth certificate, she lifted her gaze to rake her eyes over Credence's features.

"It's you?" She asked. " _You're_ my half-brother?"

"You _knew_ about me?" Credence's voice choked slightly in shock.

Leta lowered her eyes.

"When I was little, my father had to go to America for business," she began. "He came back nearly a year later, and to me, everything seemed fine. Then I was woken up one night by my parents arguing. Apparently, my mother found a letter he'd received from a woman he'd met in America, saying that she was pregnant, and when was he coming back to marry her like he'd promised? I was only five at the time, so I didn't really understand what it all meant, until I was older."

Leta ran her hands down her face before studying the birth certificate again.

"So that was her name: Clarisse," she murmured, before clearing her throat.

"My mother didn't want to endure the scandal of a divorce, so she and my father decided to stay together, on the provision my father severed contact with his American lover," Leta admitted. "Although, I think he still sent her money. My- _our_ -father's not the most honourable of people," she told Credence, "but family is very important to him."

She frowned.

"I remember," she sat up straighter. "When I was little, some strange men came to the house, wanting to speak to Father. I was told to stay upstairs but I listened at the door: The men were asking father about a woman who had been killed," she said trailing her fingers over Clarisse's photograph. "They mentioned a baby and a birth certificate with his name on it, listed as the father. They were wanting to know if he had anything to do with the woman's death, and the missing baby."

Leta bowed her head.

"When Mother discovered the baby was missing, she convinced Father to not go looking for the child," Leta continued. "She said that it would bring dishonour to our family if word got out he'd had an affair. If the baby was missing, then that meant someone else was taking care of him, and 'how bad could that be?' She'd reasoned. If the baby was dead, along with his former lover, well, that means that no one ever need find out about the whole affair."

Leta swallowed guiltily.

"I remembered it, but didn't understand, until I overheard them arguing again one summer while I was at home from school. Knowing I would never get the full story out of either of them, I asked our house elf, Twitch to tell me. I'm ashamed to admit that I, too, was afraid of what would happen to me and my family if word got out. But still, I knew I had a little brother somewhere but didn't even know his name."

Leta shook her head before raising her eyes to meet Credence's warily.

"I know I'm a monster, for that," she told him. "But I don't want to be like my parents anymore."

Squaring her shoulders, Leta cleared her throat and carefully held out a hand.

"Hello, little brother." She said, eying Credence hopefully. "It's good to finally meet you."

Slowly, cautiously, Credence took her hand in his.

"Hello, big sister," he replied. "Good to meet you, too."

~..~..~..~..

"I think he's going to be okay," Queenie announced. The group was still standing in the hallway.

"Did no one ever teach you that it's rude to eavesdrop?" Theseus asked wryly.

"I can't help it," Queenie stated.

Theseus glanced at the door.

"So, it's true?" He prompted. "Credence is Leta's half brother?"

"What was that you said about eavesdropping?" Queenie gently reprimanded.

"Well, I'm glad progress has been made in some areas, at least," Graves said. "Which reminds me, Goldstein," he turned to Tina.

"The American team are heading back home tomorrow," he told her. "While you're no longer an official member, I asked Madame Piquery to at least allow you to travel back with us. She reluctantly agreed."

"We're leaving _tomorrow_?" Tina echoed.

"Why so soon?" Newt objected.

"Grindlewald's disappeared again," Graves reminded them. "He can't be found anywhere in France, and after all of us looking for him, I doubt he'd stay anywhere in Europe now. He's likely gone somewhere new, and we need to find him again as soon as possible."

"But surely," Newt spoke up quickly, "you're more capable of finding him by working together?"

"We have more access to our resources in our own country, Mr Scamander," Graves told him before turning to Tina.

"We leave at ten thirty tomorrow morning, Miss Goldstein," Graves told her before he walked off. "I expect you packed and present."

Tina turned to Newt, who was actually looking her in the eye for a change.

"I didn't think I'd have to leave so soon," Tina couldn't think of what else to say.

"We can always organise later transport," Newt spoke up, "if-if you'd like to stay longer. The bakery has its Grand Opening tomorrow," he added quickly as Theseus was eying him suspiciously. "You can't miss that."

"Mr Graves said he had to ask Madame Piquery to let me come back with them," Tina reminded him anxiously. "He's sticking his neck out for a twice-fired auror. If I refuse, I won't stand a chance of even getting my old job in wand registration back."

Somewhere a bell dinged and the door to the interview room opened.

"Time's up," Theseus called and Credence and Leta both stood up. Leta reached out and placed a hand on her new brother's shoulder before a pair of aurors entered.

"I'll see you soon, little brother", she promised him over her shoulder as she was taken out a side door.

Credence packed up the documents once more before re-joining his friends in the corridor, holding the precious envelope close to his chest.

"I have a sister," he announced with a small smile. "An actual, blood sister."

"I'm happy for you, Credence," Newt told him sincerely. Credence had only ever wanted to have a family. To belong.

Newt just hoped Leta didn't break his heart, too.

~..~..~..~..

Dumbledore entered his office at Hogwarts sombrely.

Willow's story had been truly exceptional, he considered as he removed his coat. To think that a muggle girl could be capable of such a powerful spell that could protect Credence from even being touched…

Although, he considered, just because Gellert was now incapable of _directly_ hurting Credence didn't mean he was now completely safe.

Afterall, there were many ways to _indirectly_ harm someone. And Gellert wasn't above letting others do his dirty work.

' _Much like yourself,_ ' a voice in the back of his mind said, and Albus sat heavily in his chair, running shaking hands down his face.

' _That poor, poor girl_ ,' he swallowed as a tear began to trickle down his face. Such a needless death.

Willow protected Credence, he marvelled. A muggle girl… truly this was ancient magic far deeper and more powerful than either he or Gellert had tried to learn about. Magic that came even before modern wizardry. It was no wonder Batini had known what it was, he mused. Ancient magic was in her blood.

' _Fascinating'_. Albus found himself wishing he could have met the girl. Perhaps there was a kind of magic in her blood that-

' _No_ ,' he told himself, standing up quickly, beginning to pace. That's how it always started. First it was the curiosity, then the theories, then the desire to test them, then before he knew it…

' _I can't be trusted_ ,' Albus reminded himself, gripping the back of his chair.

His new phoenix, Fawkes, let out a haunting, bell-like note from his perch, lifting Albus' spirits almost immediately. The magical bird was fledging fast, and was growing a beautiful feather coat of red and gold plumage.

"Thank you, Fawkes" the professor told his phoenix affectionately as he scratched behind the young bird's head. "I needed that."

Something caught the man's eye and he turned to spy a small parcel lying on his desk he hadn't noticed before.

Curious, he unwrapped it to find a familiar looking box.

Swallowing in trepidation, Albus carefully opened it to reveal a familiar pendant, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows glinting in the lamp light.

A piece of paper was folded just inside the lid, and Albus opened it carefully.

 _'Thought you might want your necklace back,_ ' he read. _'Just in case. I've still got the one you made for me.'_

Using wandless magic, Albus set the paper alight before he had time to stop himself.

His hands hesitated over the box, however.

Replacing the lid quickly, Albus sent it flying to a safe at the back of the room, hidden behind the framed drawing of Hogwarts castle that Credence had given him for Christmas.

' _Out of sight, out of mind,_ ' he figured. At least, that was the theory.

' _I can't be trusted_ ,' he reminded himself.

~..~..~..~..

That evening, Newt took Tina and Credence to Hogwarts for Credence's lesson. Newt took them a little earlier than usual so he could take the pair of them for a proper tour of the castle. Credence was proud to be able to show Tina the Library, and pointed out the tower that held the Book and Quill room, while Newt showed Tina the Quidditch pitch and the forbidden forest, telling of all the creatures he'd found within.

He wanted Tina to see the castle and grounds as it should be seen, and Tina was greatly impressed.

"This place is amazing," she smiled as they headed back inside towards Professor Imamu's classroom. "And I'm looking forward to seeing you in class, Credence. I'd love to see what you've learned."

Credence, however, wasn't really feeling up for a class this evening. The entire day had been a whirlwind of events and emotions. From Willow's funeral that morning, to discovering his birth mother's story, to hearing from his sister, to realising he had a sister- by blood- to actually _meeting_ his sister…

He felt so drained, it was like he'd been through a wringer.

"Credence," Professor Imamu greeted him with a warm hug. "How are you?"

"Alive," Credence answered, unsure exactly how he was emotionally.

"Well, that's always a good start," Dumbledore quipped with a smile. He'd brought Fawkes with him, and Newt was quick to go over and say hello to the young bird as it sat on its perch, and was glad to see it was in very good condition.

"May I ask," Batini spoke up cautiously to Credence, "about Mr Graves' visit earlier today?"

Newt and Tina turned to Credence, letting him decide.

"My birth mother's name was Clarisse Tremblay," He told his professors. "She was an auror for MACUSA."

"Impressive," Dumbledore smiled. "That may explain your power, Credence."

"My sister is also Leta Lestrange," he added, taking Dumbledore completely by surprise. "We share the same father."

"Well… how about that?" Dumbledore stated in mild shock. "It's a smaller world than you think, isn't it?"

"What are we doing today?" Credence asked, wanting to keep the rest of the details to himself, for now.

"We have decided to teach you a very special defensive spell, tonight, Credence," Professor Batini announced. "The Patronus Charm."

"Are you sure, professors?" Newt asked warily. Surely, they could understand how drained Credence would be after the past couple of days?

"I don't know if I'm capable right now," Credence admitted wearily.

"All the more important, Credence," Professor Imamu explained gently. "We often find our hidden strengths at the time when we feel our most weak."

"And, with many dementors still on the loose, it's a very important spell to know," Dumbledore added.

Credence took a deep breath before drawing his wand and moving to stand in the middle of the room.

"Now, you know the incantation?" Imamu asked.

"Expecto Patronum," Credence nodded.

"Good," Imamu nodded. "But the spell alone is not enough, as you know. You need a powerful, happy, memory."

"I was able to make a silvery mist, when I tried it before." Credence admitted. "I was thinking of Willow," his face began to crumple slightly. "But now, when I think of her, I just feel… _lost_."

"Then don't use her memory just yet," Newt told him. "Try to find something else."

Credence huffed, sceptical.

"Like what?"

"Your emotions will guide your magic," Professor Imamu encouraged. "Just let it flow naturally, let your mind and heart wander, you'll find it. You have faced the darkest wizard of our time, earned the love of a woman who has protect you with her final breath and found your family at long last. You can do this."

Credence hung his head, unsure.

"If you really feel you can't do this, Credence-" Tina began, but Credence cut her off.

"No," he countered, squaring his shoulders. "I'll try it."

"Shame we don't have a real dementor in the room," Imamu muttered absently. "That would be the perfect thing to practice on."

"No!" Newt and Tina objected in unison.

"I already feel like there's a dementor in the room," Credence added. "I don't need the real thing."

"Are you ready, Credence?" Dumbledore asked. "You can try in your own time."

"Extpecto Patronum," Credence muttered to himself, taking a deep breath. "A happy memory."

Credence closed his eyes and cast his mind through his memory. ' _Let your emotions guide your magic,_ ' he recalled Professor Imamu's words. But after all he'd been through that day, he felt so exhausted…

He'd lost Willow.

She had died because of him.

She had died to protect him.

Her love was protecting him even now.

 _Love_ …

That was really the one thing Credence had always wanted. He had never really experienced love from his Ma.

Fawkes let out a single, pure, haunting note that seemed to fill the classroom and Credence felt his spirits lift almost immediately.

He recalled the photograph of his birth mother, holding him as a baby in the garden of their house.

He looked forward to reading more of her journal when he got back home, to learn more about her.

He wished he could have known her. Grown up with her.

At least now, he knew what she looked like. He knew she had been brave, just like Willow had.

And now, he found he had a sister.

He had a _blood_ -sister…

Family…

He had a _family_ , a _blood_ family, actual _relatives_ , for the first time in his life.

He knew where he came from…

 _He knew his name…_

His eyes snapped open.

" _Expecto Patronum_!" Credence exclaimed and suddenly a silvery-winged something swooped out of his wand as a round of applause rang out through the classroom.

"Excellent, Credence!" Dumbledore congratulated him, giving a round of applause. "A truly fantastic effort. Well done."

"What creature is that?" Credence asked trying to get a better look as the animal flew a circle around the room.

"A raven," Newt answered with a pensive smile. " _Interesting_."

"Why?" Credence asked.

"The raven is featured on the Lestrange family crest," Newt explained. "Leta's father- and yours, Credence- his name 'Corvinus' actually means 'raven'. It's tradition, that the first-born male in the Lestrange family is named Corvinus, or some other derivative, such as Corvin or, indeed, Corvus."

' _I was named, in honour of my father_ ,' Credence recalled. _'That's why my mother had named me Corvus: it was my father's family tradition.'_

"That's actually what I was thinking of," he admitted, watching as his raven patronus continued to fly around the room. "I was thinking of Leta, and my birth mother, and that I finally knew I belonged to a family. That was my happy memory."

"That is certainly something to be happy about, Credence," Tina smiled as Newt nodded his approval.

Credence watched as his raven patronus faded from sight, becoming thoughtful.

"Corvus," he corrected softly.

"What?"

Credence looked up to see his friends and teachers staring at him curiously.

"I don't want anything of Ma's anymore," he announced. "Not even the name she gave me. My name is Corvus Tremblay. That's the name my birth mother gave me. That's who I want to be."

Newt smiled before stepping forward and offering a hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Corvus Tremblay," he said as he shook the young man's hand.

~..~..~..~..

The following day was the first day of the New Year, and it seemed to be off to a fine start as customers began arriving at the newest bakery on London's main street.

Jacob was smiling, happy in his work as customers praised his pastries. Cred- no _Corvus_ , he reminded himself, was helping mostly in the back room, keeping the ovens turning over, while he and Queenie worked out the front.

The whole Scamander family had been among the first customers, with Newt being the first to take a bite of Jacob's 'Poppy Cakes' and declaring them _almost_ equal to their House-elf's creations.

Mrs Scamander happily purchased three creature-shaped pastries: the niffler, the erumpent and the demiguise, before declaring they were almost too adorable to eat, while Scamander senior simply shook his head indulgently at his wife before congratulating the Kowalski's on their new venture.

Theseus had simply stopped by on his way to the ministry, staying long enough to scrutinise the creature pastries, noting the childlike exclamations of the muggle patrons before declaring them innocent enough.

"Of course, they're fine, Theseus dear," Rhiannon told her son in exasperation. "Mr and Mrs Kowalski are simply reaching to a wider clientele," she sent Queenie a wink.

"Congratulations on your fine start to the New Year, Mr and Mrs Kowalski," Theseus told them as he bought a small apple strudel. "Make sure you're at the Ministry before ten thirty, Miss Goldstein," he added to Tina, who was pressed against a bread display, trying to stay out of the way of the customers in the shop.

"I have something I want to discuss with you before you go." He stated. "I'll see you at the terminal."

"That sounds ominous," Newt commented as he watched his brother leave.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, dearie," Rhiannon assured Tina. "It was wonderful to see you again," she told her as she and her husband prepared to leave. "I hope to see you at the house for a visit soon."

"I'm so proud of you, Queenie," Tina hugged her sister during a lull where her sister could actually catch her breath.

"Thank you," Queenie smiled, rushed, but happy. "I think we're going to do okay."

"I'm sure you'll be more than okay," Newt assured her.

The bell jingled.

"Eliza!" Queenie greeted warmly, hurrying around the counter to give the girl a hug. "So wonderful to see you. How are you feeling today, Honey?"

"Coping. Almost," Eliza answered slowly.

"Can I interest you in a pastry?" Jacob asked, gesturing to the demiguise display that was already nearly empty.

Upon seeing the curious creations Eliza began to smile.

"These are adorable, Mr Kowalski," she complemented. "How creative."

"Thanks," Jacob reached for a paper bag. "Here, on the house," he put a demiguise pastry in the bag and offered it to her.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, accepting it. "Is Credence here?"

"He's out the back, working with the ovens, if you want to say 'hi' before going to work," Queenie told her. "He'll have a bit of a story to tell you," she added.

"Alright," Eliza nodded, intrigued, before heading through the door Queenie gestured her towards.

"Well," Tina began reluctantly. "I suppose I'd better get going." She'd packed her bag at the Leaky Cauldron last night, keeping it in in Newt's case ready for leaving.

"I'll walk with you," Newt volunteered gladly. "I should really show my face in the Magical Creatures department, anyway."

"Have a safe trip," Queenie gave her sister one last hug. "We'll see you soon, Teenie."

~..~..~..~..

Newt was strongly reminded of the time he had to leave New York, as he and Tina entered the Ministry and made their way towards the International Floo Department.

"Tina!" a voice called, and the woman waved as she caught sight of Auror Bennet as they headed in his direction.

"Mr Scamander," Charles Bennet held out a hand in greeting.

"Auror Bennet," Newt shook the man's hand quickly.

"Back home, ready to start all over again," Bennet commented, before starting, glancing at Tina apologetically.

"Sorry," he told her sincerely.

"It's okay," Tina told her former partner glumly.

"What are you going to do now?" He asked.

Tina shrugged. She'd been so focused on helping Credence, sorry, _Corvus_ , Tina had momentarily forgotten she no longer had a job. What _was_ she going to do? There was nothing for her back in the United States, now.

"She'll find a team that appreciates her dedication," Newt spoke up.

Bennet raised his eyebrows inquiringly, but Tina was saved commenting as a she heard another voice call her name.

"Miss Goldstein?"

Tina turned to spy Theseus approaching her.

"Yes, Auror Scamander," she replied, waiting.

"I said I wanted to talk with you before you left," the Head Auror began, glancing at Bennet, who took the hint and moved away.

"Yes Sir," Tina nodded. 'What was she going to get told off about now?' She wondered, as Newt watched his brother carefully.

"I have to admit," Theseus began, "I was quite impressed at how well you traced Leta's movements back to those catacombs. And the tracing spell you used to locate Credence when he was kidnapped by Grindlewald? That takes great skill. And, even though he's on the run again, we never would have found Grindlewald in either instance if not for you."

"Thank you, Sir," Tina nodded to accept the compliment.

"Glad you're finally giving credit where it's due, Theseus," Newt told his brother, who decided to ignore his younger sibling, focusing instead on Tina.

"Graves is right though: you do think with your heart," Theseus continued. "However, if you didn't, Cred- _Corvus_ \- would likely have been dead by now, or Grindlewald would have done even more damage." Theseus frowned, considering, while Tina simply stood before him, confused as to where the British Head Auror was going with this.

"What I'm saying is: you are a good Auror, Tina," Theseus told her, taking the woman by surprise.

"It's a shame you're no longer on Graves' team," he added consolingly.

"She could get back on the team," Newt spoke up quickly. "She got her job back once, she can do it again."

But Tina shook her head.

"You can't get back on the team after losing your job twice," she told him, confirming Theseus' suspicions. "They need to be able to trust you can do the job, and so, if you blow your second chance: you're out." She sighed sadly.

"Is that the 'protocol' Graves was talking about?" Newt protested.

"And I can't do anything about it, Newt," Tina told him. "I guess I'll have to talk with Madame Piquery about my options."

Theseus was studying Tina's expression carefully.

"Graves," he called toward the group of American aurors waiting in line.

"What is it, Scamander?" Graves asked as he came over. "It's almost time to leave."

"As Miss Goldstein is currently out of a job with MACUSA, I'm trying to decide whether to ask her to join my team at the Ministry," Theseus explained to Graves as Tina's eyes widened with shock.

"What's your recommendation, Mr Graves?" Theseus asked.

"Well," Graves considered. "Miss Goldstein is a highly dedicated auror, to the point where she even does her job when she doesn't have one," he began. "She often thinks with her heart instead of her head, but this leads to her having good instincts about when to follow the rule book and when to throw it out the window. And you will have her doing that, if you decide to take her on, Scamander," Graves warned Theseus seriously as Tina swallowed, lowering her eyes.

"In saying that," Graves continued, "Tina, while unorthodox, has proven to be a good asset to my team in the past, and I think she would make a good addition to yours, in the future," he concluded.

"I agree," Newt spoke up quickly. "You could never ask for an auror more dedicated to her job than Tina, Theseus. And I guarantee," he continued emphatically, "that if you hire her, you will not regret it."

Theseus raised an eyebrow at his brother's passionate argument before turning his gaze back on Tina, who did her best to hold her head high.

"Would you be interested in a job on my team, Miss Goldstein?" Theseus asked. "I really should have asked whether you wanted the job, before offering it."

"No, I'd love the job," Tina spoke up quickly. "Being an auror is all I've ever wanted to be. And now that everyone I care about is here," she added, glancing shyly at Newt, "there's not much holding me back in New York."

Theseus smiled before holding out a hand.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, Auror Goldstein," he said. "How soon can you start?"

Tina couldn't keep the smile off her face as she accepted Theseus' hand to shake.

"As soon as possible, Sir," she answered gratefully. "I'll just have to give notice at my apartment, and my bank…" Tina's mind glanced through a rough checklist of the things she'd have to clear before moving to England before refocusing on the fact that she now had a job as an auror, could see her little sister, and would be back to see Newt again far earlier than anticipated.

" _Thank you,_ Auror Scamander," she told him gratefully.

"Congratulations, Tina," Newt told her happily before turning to his brother. "Wise decision, Brother mine."

Graves smiled.

"Well, that's another lot of paperwork I have to sort out," he stated lightly. "You take care of my auror, Mr Scamander," he cautioned as he took his leave.

"Oh, I'll do my best," Theseus replied, good naturedly.

"With all due respect, Auror Scamander," Graves paused as he turned back. "I was talking to your brother."

Newt looked up, startled, as he felt Graves' gaze on him.

"I'm the Head Auror at MACUSA," Graves reminded him plainly, noting the man's bewildered expression. "Did you really think I couldn't see it?"

Newt felt himself blush and immediately turned his gaze to the floor.

"Like I said," Graves reiterated. "Look after her, Mr Scamander."

Newt cleared his throat nervously.

"I swear, I will, Sir," he said.

Graves nodded in approval, before turning to leave with his team.

"I trust this means Tina will be joining our family for the Easter Holidays?" Theseus asked Newt, who turned a deeper shade of beetroot.

"I'll be in contact, Auror Goldstein. Safe travels," Auror Scamander told his newest recruit before returning to his own department, leaving Newt and Tina alone outside the terminal.

"Looks like I'll be coming back sooner than I thought," Tina broke the silence, her voice still breathless with joy at her sudden change in fortune.

"I look forward to it," Newt told her. "I know you'll be brilliant, Tina."

The woman smiled.

"Thank you, Newt." She told him.

"Before you go," Newt suddenly remembered, digging in his case quickly, "I wanted to give you this."

Tina eyed the simple rectangle package in Newt's hand.

"Is that what I think it is?" She asked eagerly.

"Mr Worme delivered it to me last night," Newt explained with a nod. "It's the first copy. I wanted you to have it."

Tina accepted the parcel, stunned.

"Are you sure?" She asked. "You should really have-"

"No," Newt cut her off. "I want you to have it."

"Thank you," Tina said gratefully as she unwrapped the package to reveal a splendid book with a red leather cover.

' _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, By Newt Scamander,'_ was embossed on the cover in bright gold writing.

Newt watched with bated breath and was relieved when Tina smiled widely.

"Oh, it's beautiful, Newt," she told him.

"Look inside," Newt instructed, swallowing nervously.

Flipping open the front cover curiously, Tina stilled when she saw the simple dedication. It was only two words:

 _For Tina._

"That's why I wanted you to have the first copy," Newt explained hesitantly and Tina's eyes began to well up as she hugged the book to her chest, truly touched by the gesture.

Newt hadn't been sure how Tina would react to the simple dedication he'd written, but he couldn't think of anyone else he had wanted to dedicate his book to. True, his mother had been the one to inspire his love for creatures, but Tina had been with him through so much…

However, watching the tears trail down the woman's cheeks made Newt wonder if, again, he'd been too forward. He reached out with one hand and brushed a small tear drop away in concern. He hadn't meant to upset her.

"Tina?" He prompted gently, as she raised her eyes to his.

Unable to think of the words to express how she was feeling, let alone say them, Tina simply reached out and placed a soft kiss on Newt's lips.

As they parted, both were smiling and Newt once more felt that emotional _pull_ in his chest.

' _I know,_ ' he told the feeling. _'I understand, now.'_

A bell sounded, and Bennet called out, saying their Floo was ready to send them back to America.

Tina sucked in a breath as she tried not to start crying again.

' _Not enough time,'_ her heart protested. Meeting Newt's gaze, she could tell he was thinking the same thing.

"I'll be back," she promised.

"I'll be waiting," Newt swore.

Picking up her case with one hand, Tina held the book close to her chest with the other. Slowly, she moved off to catch up with the tail end of her former team as they made their way towards the International Floo Terminal that would return them to MACUSA.

She was the last in line. Before entering the floo, Tina took one final look over her shoulder where Newt still stood. His tall frame making him stand out in the crowd.

'I'll be back, Newt,' she said in her mind, before stepping into the flames.

Newt watched as Tina disappeared from sight and let out a breath, wiping his eyes.

Breathing deeply, Newt picked up his case, preparing to go back to work.

'I will see you again, Tina,' he promised, already counting the days.

~..~..~..~..

 _Author's note: So, that's it! Finally! And I finished before 'Crimes of Grindlewald' comes out, yes! I finished before the deadline!_

 _I have about a week for my story to remain plausibly canon…_

 _What did you think?_

 _I've never really believed stories ever really 'ended,' because I start wondering 'what happens to the characters after I close the book?' Although, that's why I love fanfiction so much, as it does give me the chance to continue on with stories, like I've done here with 'Fantastic Beasts'._

 _However, as a writer, I think it is important to know when to stop writing a story, and I think here is the best time._

 _I was wanting to add small scenes with other characters we'd met, like a flash of Merope rushing to the orphanage to give birth on the 31_ _st_ _December, or a glimpse of Grimson being let out, returning to the circus and we see the new 'snake girl' in her cage, who we now know is Nagini- how cool is that?_

 _I thought it might make a good tie in to CoG, as if this were a 'what happens in between times?' story. However, I felt I needed to focus on the main characters and at least give them a conclusion to this part of their story._

 _After Tina got fired a second time, I didn't think she could get her job back. I remember in the first movie, she got fired and sent to the wand permit office, and she was complaining to Newt that if there was an inquiry she was 'finished.' So, I imagine the protocols around hiring formally dismissed employees would be quite strict._

 _But, we all know that Tina is very dedicated to her job, so I had to ensure she could still work as an auror. And seriously, now that her sister is in England, and the man she loves is in England, what's really keeping her in New York?_

 _And now that Theseus has seen her work, I'm sure he'd invite her to join his team at the Ministry of Magic. She comes highly recommended by Newt, of course, who has seen Tina's work as an auror first hand._

 _I couldn't resist adding the bit about Dumbledore receiving the necklace from Grindlewald though. I thought- what would Grindlewald do with the extra necklace? And I figured he'd try to win back his old partner._

 _I'd written a scene where Dumbledore and Grindlewald actually meet and speak to each other, and Albus tries to talk Gellert around. But, I didn't think we would actually see them interact at this point in time. We may see flashbacks in the film, but I doubt Albus trusts himself to even be near Gellert, so great is the emotional pain and temptation- much like Newt and Leta I suppose- that we'll never see Albus and Gellert directly interact until Albus finally decides to confront his former partner in 1945._

 _As for Credence, I really wanted him to meet Leta, and Leta, being the rather rebellious child I'm sure she was, would have gone sneaking around for information if she'd found out she had a secret sibling. However, as a child fearful of perhaps losing one of her parents, she also kept the secret herself._

 _I was just thinking though: If Corvinus married Clarisse as his second wife in the official cannon, surely Leta would have taken her mother's maiden name instead after the divorce? Or did she instead stay with her father? Was there even a divorce, or did Laurena die? And if that were the case, then Leta would indeed have kept her father's last name, and then Clarisse would be her stepmother. But then, she would definitely know about her little brother… perhaps Clarisse left Corvinus, taking her son with her to America?_

 _I don't know! There are so many possibilities, and I hope I've written at least a plausibly written variation._

 _I'm sure Leta would want to reach out to Credence though. As someone with half-siblings myself, I'm sure they'll find they have a lot more in common than they think, and could become quite close._

 _And, okay, yeah, I don't know whether Credence/Corvus would actually be able to produce a corporeal patronus so soon after losing Willow, but I just wanted to show my idea on what I think his patronus would actually be._

 _The name Corvinus does indeed mean 'Raven' and I remember, in the trailers, we do see a couple of birds that could be ravens. I remember seeing Queenie touching the picture of a white bird on a black cloth/curtain and that looked like a raven._

 _And I know in the promotional photos, Leta's picture has been shown with a small bird in the detailing around the sides._

 _So, as Grindlewald does indeed appear to have the gift of Sight, I'm assuming the new movie will be along similar lines as 'Order of the Phoenix' where there may be a prophesy, this time referencing 'the raven' or 'the son/daughter/child/children of the raven,' or some such line, meaning Credence or Leta, or both._

 _I'm still sad that Willow is gone. I saw so much potential for her character, and wanted to examine her relationship with Credence more. I'd actually written this whole scene of them both recovering after the battle with Grindlewald and finally sharing a proper kiss. However, Credence, due to his upbringing is completely overwhelmed and ends up basically running away. Willow feels rejected, even though that's not the case, Credence feels guilty and there was this really awkward/sweet parenting moment between Newt, Jacob and Credence where they pretty much have 'the talk' and we also get to see more of Newt's perspective of what love means as he tries to explain it to Credence and…_

 _It was just an amazing character development scene and I wish I could have kept it in. But, like I said, I really felt that, in J.K. Rowling's magical world, in order to place that particular protection spell on someone you love, you need to sacrifice your life to do so, not simply be willing to._

 _Because that was another thing that I wondered: Does the protections spell only work with Avada Kedavra? Or would it work if you were protecting someone from a cruciatus curse as well?_

 _I'm thinking it's only the Avada Kedavra. You are giving your life to protect someone, so I think that's the only circumstance it would work._

 _As for Newt and Tina's farewell scene, I realise it's a bit of a repeat from the first movie, just with Tina leaving Newt. However, in this instance, I wanted to bring it full circle, with Newt finally able to give her the copy of his book as he'd promised. Now they are both aware of how they feel for each other, I think they'll slowly take further steps forward in their relationship as they become more comfortable with expressing themselves around each other, which is why I had Newt dedicate his book to Tina. I thought it was something that he would do._

 _I imagine Newt, while being socially awkward, is a bit of a romantic at heart. Not the 'stagey' kind, with flowers, music and wine, but in that everything he does or says is completely sincere, even if it's a seemingly small thing, like getting two extra words written on the dedication page of his book…_

 _Okay, I think I've really written enough- I've been writing these final chapters for a month straight, and I have a matter of days before I find out how close my theories and ideas were to the real story._

 _My story could still be cannon for a few more days, and then it will be blown apart when Crimes of Grindlewald comes out on the 14th. Yes, New Zealand gets the movie on the 14th, as we're essentially a day ahead of the Northern hemisphere- it's literally eight days away!  
_

 _But still, I loved writing this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it. And I would really love some feedback, so if you would be so kind as to leave one last review, I'd greatly appreciate it._

 _Thank you so much for reading!_

 _Celino._


End file.
